Tiny Steve's first full day in the future: Steve has some thoughts on Bucky's arm; he and Wanda have a nice little moment; and the Avengers build a fort in the living room.
When Bucky woke up the next morning, a tiny weight in dinosaur pajamas was resting on his chest, little limbs snaking out to wrap around his torso. Bucky rolled his eyes. "I forgot you were such an octopus, man," he whispered—most of their sleepovers in the 20's had ended up the same way.
Bucky carefully extricated himself from the tangle of Steve and got out of bed. Steve burrowed down deeper into the covers with a sleepy snuffle and did not wake—even the war had never really managed to kick how deep of a sleeper he was. Bucky smiled fondly and headed for the bathroom. Steve was still asleep when he got out of the shower, so he flicked on the light and reached down and poked him in the side, eliciting a displeased grunt.
"Wake up, Stevie," he said. He reached down and ruffled Steve's hair, and Steve blinked his eyes open grumpily. "Morning."
Steve's eyes jumped around the room, confused for a minute before he remembered where he was. "Morning, Bucky," he said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"You sleep okay?" Bucky asked, turning around to the closet to grab a shirt.
"Yeah, I—oh," Steve said.
Bucky turned back around at the soft, alarmed noise. "You okay?"
Steve nodded. "Uh huh. I just…" He nodded at Bucky's shoulder. "That looks like it hurts," he said quietly.
Even though he'd been reaching for a shirt, Bucky hadn't consciously realized until just then that he'd come out of the bathroom in just his sweatpants. Steve had only seen part of his arm yesterday, and now he was staring at the scarred flesh of Bucky's shoulder where the metal jammed up into the skin and bone, looking horrified and a little sick.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Bucky said quickly, feeling his cheeks flush and turning back to the closet to grab something to throw over it.
"No, Bucky, wait," Steve said, and Bucky heard his little feet patter across the floor. "I didn't mean for…I'm sorry." He reached up and touched Bucky's elbow, and Bucky turned around. Steve was staring up at him with big, sad eyes. "I'm sorry," he said again.
"It's okay," Bucky said, sliding on the shirt he'd grabbed. "I know it's not very nice to look at."
"No," Steve said, shaking his head. "It's not that."
Bucky crouched down to look him in the eye, tilting his head curiously. "Then what is it?"
Steve reached over to touch Bucky's shoulder, but pulled his hand back before he did. "I can't believe someone really did that to you," he said softly. "It's so…" He trailed off helplessly, his nine-year-old vocabulary unable to find the words he wanted. Bucky knew what they were, though, although it had taken grown-up Steve a while to find them too. Bucky grunted in surprise as Steve flung himself forward and threw his arms around Bucky's neck. "I'm so sorry they hurt you like that," he whispered. "But you don't…" He pulled back and looked at Bucky, eyes shining. "If you don't like people looking at it, that's okay." One little hand slid down, grabbing the material over Bucky's shoulder and twisting it into his fist. "But please don't be embarrassed about it in front of me." He gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm your friend, Bucky. You don't have to worry about hiding stuff like that from me."
Something warm uncurled and expanded in Bucky's chest, and he pulled Steve back into the hug. "You're something else, Stevie," he said softly. "Thanks."
Steve hugged him back tightly, and Bucky hung on to him a moment longer, then patted the back of his head and stood up. "You wanna go get some breakfast?"
"I know Barton has kids and everything," Sam said, taking a sip of his coffee. "But it's weirding me out how good he is at this."
Bucky nodded in agreement. Sam guessed the little eyebrow quirk he shot him before nodding was him wondering if Sam was going to say something about him being good with Steve. The Winter Soldier having what could only be described as a paternal side probably did surprise some of the group, but given all Sam had heard about Bucky while he and Steve had been looking for him, and what Sam had seen since Bucky started finding his feet again, he didn't think it was unusual at all. That caretaker instinct of Bucky's was one of the first things to wake up after he remembered who he was, and this was just an extension of that. So, no, Papa Bear Bucky didn't surprise Sam at all.
What did surprise him was Clint Barton, standing at the stove and showing Steve, who was standing on a stool next to him, the right way to flip pancakes and singing, for some reason, a supremely irritating, very repetitive song about tacos.
"It's raining tacos! From out of the sky! Tacos! No need to ask why! Just open your mouth, and close your eyes," Clint sang.
He held out his spatula to Steve as if it were a microphone. "It's raining tacos!" Steve sang with a smile.
"It's raining tacos! Out on the street!" Clint continued.
"Tacos!" Steve chimed in. "All you can eat!"
"Lettuce and shells, cheese and meat—it's raining tacos!" Clint finished, going wildly off-key and making Steve giggle. "Oh, wait, that one's ready to flip!" he said, pointing at one of the pancakes. "You got it?"
"Got it!" Steve said, and he worked his spatula under the pancake, flipping it over with a little too much flourish, but still landing it back in the pan.
"Awesome!" Clint said, holding up a hand for a high five, which Steve returned enthusiastically. "Okay! It's raining tacos! From—" he started to sing again.
"One more note, and I will murder you with that spatula," Natasha growled, walking into the kitchen with a glare.
"Someone's grumpy before she has her breakfast," Clint said in a stage whisper to Steve, which might have gotten him murdered with the spatula anyway, if not for the fact that it made Steve giggle again, and Sam could see Natasha fighting down a smile.
"Barton's lucky Steve's so cute," she muttered, dropping down into the chair next to Sam.
He really was, Sam had to admit. He was ridiculously tiny, his blond hair hanging down in his face in a way that just invited your fingers to brush it back and tuck it behind his ears, and his big blue eyes staring at everything in awe. He had an awfully sweet little giggle (which weirded Sam out a little, because Steve laughed, sure, but Sam had never heard the big guy giggle), and it was hard not to smile when that thousand-watt grin lit up his face. The fact that he was wearing dinosaur pajamas just made it that much cuter.
Bucky poured Natasha a cup of coffee, and Steve and Clint continued making and flipping pancakes, though the singing stopped. Not that it mattered. That song was going to be in Sam's head the rest of the day.
"Here's your pancakes, Miss Natasha," Steve said, coming over from the stove with a plate. He handed her the plate and a fork, and she thanked him with a smile. "And here's yours, Mr. Sam," he said, coming back with another plate.
"He does know he can just call us by our names, right?" Sam asked Bucky after accepting the plate from Steve, who hurried back to the stove.
Bucky chuckled. "Are you kidding? He's nine and you're an adult; you're lucky he's not calling you 'Mr. Wilson'."
"Here you go, Bucky," Steve said, bringing over another plate.
"Thanks, man," Bucky said as Steve rushed away to get his own food.
"You're not 'Mr. Bucky', though," Sam pointed out.
"Well, sure," Bucky said, digging into his pancakes. "But he remembers me. If he'd known you in 1927, he'd probably call you 'Sam'. He might do it eventually, once he gets to know you better."
"Well, hopefully we'll get this cleared up before that," Sam said, getting another nod from Bucky.
Steve and Clint came over to the table, each carrying their own plate of pancakes. "These are really good, Steve," Natasha said, gesturing at her plate with her fork.
"Thanks!" Steve beamed. "I've never had 'em with bacon inside before, but Mr. Clint says they taste better that way."
"Almost anything tastes better with bacon," Bucky agreed.
"There's lots more," Steve said, pointing back to the stove. "Superheroes sure eat a lot."
Sam laughed. That was pretty rich coming from Steve, even if he was only eating two small pancakes right now.
"So," Steve asked, cutting his pancake into ridiculously neat little pieces. "After breakfast, am I supposed to go to school?" Everyone looked at him, their faces as puzzled as Sam felt. "Well, 'cause I'm a kid again," Steve explained. "Shouldn't I go to school?"
"Let's hold off on school for a little while, Stevie," Bucky said. "Hopefully, Stark will figure out how to make you big again, and big you's already done the fourth grade."
Steve considered this, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of pancake. "But what if I forget fractions? We were in the middle of them when I came here."
Bucky smiled. "If you end up needing fractions before you get big again, we'll help you figure them out."
"Okay," Steve agreed.
The talk turned to what they planned to do for the day, since no one had any missions on the docket. Steve listened quietly and curiously. Sam wondered if it was just his old-fashioned manners kicking in and keeping him from interrupting while the grownups talked, or if he was actually interested in the ordinary lives of the Avengers. He supposed it was an interesting thing for a kid, what a superhero did on their day off.
They were all planning on checking in with Tony to see if he needed anything, and Natasha was going to hit up some contacts to see if there was any word on the portal guy, but there wasn't a whole lot else for them to do to solve this problem right now.
Sam started wondering what Steve was going to do all day. It's not like the Tower had toys or games or anything, and what did a kid from the 20's do for fun anyway? They could hardly just send him down to the street to run around.
"So, Steve," Sam said when they hit a lull in the conversation. "What kind of stuff do you like to do? Since you don't have to go to school today and all."
"Well," Steve said slowly, thinking. "I like playing baseball. I'm not very good, though, but it's fun. And I like to read. I like the Doctor Doolittle books, and I got a new adventure book called The Midnight Folk, and it's really good. I didn't get to finish it, though," he said a little sadly, as if just realizing he didn't have any of his old stuff with him. He shook his head. "And I like playing games and drawing and stuff."
"You like building forts?" Clint asked.
"Yeah!"
"We've got some stuff around here that could make a pretty sweet fort," Barton said.
"Yeah, let's do that!" Steve enthused. "Do you wanna play?" he asked, looking back at Sam.
"You know what? Yeah, let's build a fort," Sam said with a smile. There was something inside that still stung, seeing Steve like this, but…Well, at least he was happy. And it was hard not to smile back at that joyful innocence.
Thor came in as they were finishing and gladly accepted the invitation to join in the fort-building. Steve sat there and visibly struggled not to let his jaw drop as he watched the Asgardian eat at least twenty pancakes.
They all stood in the living room for a while, examining the layout and deciding what they would need for a good fort. Sam had built forts with his nephews last time he went to visit, but Clint was right, they could make a pretty epic one with what was available in the Tower.
Thor and Bucky did the heavy lifting of moving couches around, and the rest of them gathered mattresses, blankets and pillows. By the time they were done, the fort had multiple rooms, a second floor, and even hook-ups for lamps, tablets and iPods.
"This is the best fort ever," Steve declared proudly when they were done.
"I'll say," Bucky agreed. "Sure beats the ones we used to make out of cardboard boxes in my living room."
"We're not done yet, though," Natasha said.
"We're not?" Steve asked.
"Nope. We need snacks," she explained.
"That would make it better," Steve conceded. Natasha and Clint left to rummage up some snacks, and Thor and Bucky took Steve back into the fort to go over the entrances and weak points and make sure it was properly defensible.
Sam was sent to scrounge up some more couch cushions to shore up a gap in the north side, and he laughed when he came back into the living room and saw the look on Tony's face.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Obviously, we're making a fort," Natasha said, coming back in, her arms loaded with snacks.
"Yeah!" Steve said, flipping aside a blanket and appearing in one of the doorways. "Oh, good!" he said, spotting Sam and his stack of cushions. "Come put those over here, Mr. Sam. I'll help you carry them." He took a couple of cushions from Sam and led him to the weak point in the construction. "You wanna play too, Mr. Tony?" Steve offered.
"Uh, no thanks, kid. I've got a lot to work on," Tony said. Sam caught the way he winced as Steve's face fell, and Tony added, "But maybe later? This thing doesn't look like it's coming down any time soon."
"Okay," Steve said. "We'll save you a spot."
Tony pulled Bucky aside to talk to him about something, and Sam and Steve finished fixing the hole under Thor's instruction.
"Excellent!" Thor declared from his seat on the top level. "Even a Frost Giant would have difficulty coming this way."
"A Frost Giant?" Steve asked curiously.
"Indeed," Thor said. "They are large, blue beings with the ability to create ice and snow from their very fingertips and freeze a man's blood."
"Whoa," Steve breathed.
"My people fought many wars with them," Thor continued. "In fact…" He cupped a hand to his ear. "Listen! Do you hear them coming? They would attack our fort and steal our treasures!" he said, gesturing dramatically at the snacks.
"Oh, no!" Steve exclaimed. He jumped up and grabbed Sam's hand. "Quick, Mr. Sam! Come inside before they freeze you!" He led Sam through one of the many doorways, and Sam crawled in after him and propped a pillow against the entrance. "Good thinking," Steve said.
"Thanks," Sam said. "We should go find Thor and see if he needs help."
"Back, fiend!" they heard Thor yell. "Back to Jotenheim!"
"Sounds like he needs us," Steve said. "This way!"
He led Sam through the maze of tunnels and climbed up an armchair to reach Thor's level. Thor was sitting on one of the upper couches, throwing balled up socks at Clint, who was evidently playing the part of the Frost Giant. Sam and Steve joined the barrage, not noticing Natasha coming up from the other side. She reached up and touched Thor's arm with a cold can of soda.
"I am hit!" Thor yelled, falling back onto the couch clutching at his arm. "Oh, the ice, the ice flows into my veins!"
"Cover him!" Steve said, then started throwing balled up socks at Natasha in rapid succession, several bouncing off her head. She groaned and staggered back, handing her soda can to Barton. "Is he okay?" Steve asked, turning back to look at Thor.
"I shall survive, my Captain," Thor assured him. "But I can fight no more this day. But beware!" he said, pointing behind them. Barton was coming back.
"I'll cover Barton," Sam said, picking up several projectiles. "You watch Thor," he told Steve.
Steve nodded, then wrapped his arms over his head and ducked down over Thor as Clint let fly with a fierce barrage of balled up socks. They stopped abruptly as Clint grunted, having been tackled from the side by Bucky.
"Ha, ha!" Clint crowed. "Got you right where I want you!" He took the soda can Natasha had handed him and started reaching for Bucky's neck.
"No!" Steve yelled, and he flung himself off the couch and landed on Clint's gut hard enough to knock the wind out of him. "Save yourself, Bucky! I'll hold him off!"
Clint started laughing, and Sam thought at first it was at Little Steve's very Big Steve-like heroics, but he kept laughing, finally drawing in enough air to exclaim, "Hey, that's cheating!"
He kept laughing, and Sam realized that Steve had found Clint's ticklish spot and was attacking it without mercy. "Say Uncle!" he ordered.
Clint held out a minute longer, then capitulated. "Alright! Alright! Uncle! You win!"
"A well won victory!" Thor declared. "Come! We shall celebrate with a feast!" He disappeared back into the fort to where the snacks were stashed.
"I didn't hurt you, did I, Mr. Clint?" Sam heard Steve ask quietly.
"Nah, I'm fine, Cap," Clint said, still chuckling. "Let's eat."
Bucky was shaking his head as he came to join Sam. "Self-sacrificing little idiot," he said, huffing a laugh.
"Hasn't changed that much, has he?" Sam asked.
"Nope." He laughed. "He used to pull that tickling move on me when we wrestled. He was never strong enough to beat me, but if he could get a hand free, he'd always try that."
" 'Cause you always told me I had to fight smart instead of hard since I'm so little," Steve said, popping his head out from between a pair of blankets. "Come on; we're waiting on you guys to start snacks."
Wanda was sitting in Stark's lab, a very tiny Steve Rogers sitting on an exam table in front of her. It was strange, certainly, but Wanda's life had been very strange for the past few years. This actually felt less odd than some of the things she'd seen.
"Okay," Stark said. "I think we're good to go." In their quest to decipher the mystery of their de-aged leader, Stark thought it would be best if he and his machines monitored Wanda's search of his mind—not because he didn't trust Wanda, he'd felt the need to point out, but because he could get extra readings and scans of Steve's brain activity, and he could use all the data he could get. Wanda had decided not to over-analyze it and believe him. She knew, even though she'd been accepted onto the team, that her powers made the rest of them wary, and after their first meeting, she could hardly begrudge them that.
"Are you sure you understand what we're doing here, Stevie?" Bucky asked. Wanda knew he had explained at length to Steve what she was going to attempt to do. His hesitancy, she knew, came from decades of Hydra manipulating his mind—anything involving going into someone else's brain made him leery, in addition to the fact that he felt fiercely protective of this young Steve. Both of those emotions Wanda could feel rolling off him strongly enough that she actually needed to shield herself from them just a little, and as neither stemmed from distrust of her, she took no offense at them.
"I understand," Steve said. "She's gonna look inside my head and see if Big Me is in there somewhere."
"And you're okay with that?" Bucky asked, not for the first time.
"Uh huh," Steve said. He looked a little hesitantly at Wanda. "It's not gonna hurt, right?"
"It will not hurt," she promised him. "It may feel strange," she allowed. "And if it becomes too much, just let me know and I will stop." She knew different people reacted in different ways to what she did, but she had never used her ability on a child before. It still shouldn't hurt, but there was a possibility that he would feel her presence in his mind very intensely.
"Okay," he said, and she appreciated the trust on his little face.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., start recording," Stark said. "Whenever you're ready," he said with a nod at Wanda.
Wanda took a moment and closed her eyes, gathering her focus. She felt her power swelling up, rolling through her body, and familiar tendrils of red light were dancing around her hands when she opened her eyes.
Carefully, she reached over and placed her hands around Steve's face, not quite touching him. Her fingers moved, manipulating the flow of energy into a form that could enter his consciousness. Wanda was distantly aware of Bucky shifting uneasily on the table where he sat next to Steve as Steve inhaled sharply, but she ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. Steve's eyes drifted out of focus, their blue irises glowing red as Wanda's power touched his mind.
Emotions flew at her—fear at this strange new future, confusion at how he'd come here, trust that Bucky would take care of him… She let them wash over her in waves, knowing she must pass them before making her way to specific thoughts and memories. Slowly the tide of emotions ebbed and she began her search. She was going carefully, but at a soft whimper from Steve, she moved even more gently. Steve whimpered again, and she could sense his agitation growing, though she could also sense him attempting to rein it back in. She moved as quickly as she could while still being careful, not wanting to drag this out for him any longer than necessary.
"Stop," he whispered. "Stop it, please, I don't…I don't like it." Wanda was already pulling back, but she couldn't do it too quickly without damaging something, as deep in as she was, and his distress continued to mount. "I don't like it; I don't like it! Make it stop!" His little voice was wavering fearfully, and Wanda ignored the way it tugged on her heart and focused on pulling out safely.
The red light vanished and she released him, and Steve turned and collapsed against Bucky's chest with a moan. Bucky's arms wrapped around him, scooping him up into his lap and cradling him protectively. "Sh, sh," he soothed, stroking Steve's blond hair. "Sh. It's okay. It's okay, I've got you. I've got you. It's alright." Steve's whimpering slowly subsided, though he kept his face buried in Bucky's shirt. Bucky's eyes snapped up to meet Wanda's. "I thought you said it wasn't going to hurt him!" he said, unable to keep all of the accusation out of his voice.
"She didn't hurt me," Steve said softly. He lifted his head just enough for his watery eyes to be visible. "I don't know what that was, but it didn't hurt."
"I'm sorry, Steve," Wanda said sadly, knowing she'd frightened him.
"'S'okay," he whispered. "Just please don't ever do that again."
"I won't," she assured him.
He nodded and returned his face to its hiding spot.
Wanda sighed heavily and got up. "I'll go," she said quietly. She'd hoped she'd be able to do something to help, but this was why she'd been afraid to offer her service in the first place.
"Did you at least learn anything?" Stark asked.
She nodded. "I saw everything I needed. He is truly a nine-year-old boy. There is nothing hidden there that shouldn't be. No memories of an older life locked away. Nothing but exactly what he appears to be on the surface."
Stark nodded and Wanda left, her heart clenching at the soft, sad little sounds Steve was making and Bucky's soothing noises as he tried to comfort him. She made her way quickly to her room, tears welling in her eyes as she walked. Dropping down onto her bed, she hugged a pillow against her chest and buried her face in it, willing the tears not to fall. Even after she'd turned on Ultron and helped to destroy him, it had taken the team a while to trust her—some longer than others. She didn't blame them for that, but it still hurt, knowing there was that fear there. But Steve…Steve had trusted her almost right away. Despite the fact that she'd gotten into his mind, despite the fact that she'd dug up his pain and trapped him in it for a while, he'd trusted her. He'd seen her turn her back on Ultron and he took her at her word. He treated her like part of the team. He helped her with the loss of her brother, because he knew what it was like to lose someone, and he'd welcomed her into this little family, because he knew what it was like to be alone. He'd never hesitated, never feared her, and it killed Wanda to think that she'd lost that now.
There was a soft knock at her door, and it was probably Vision coming to check on her, but when she sat up and turned around, she saw Steve standing there instead.
"Miss Wanda?" he said softly, like he wasn't sure if he should come in.
"Hello, Steve," she said, turning on as a big a smile as she could muster. If the look on his face was anything to go by, she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "Is everything alright?"
He nodded.
"You can come in," she said as he continued to hover by the door, though she wasn't sure if he wanted to.
He shuffled inside, eyes on his feet. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"For what?"
He looked up at her, his eyes bright and sad, but no longer afraid. "About before," he said, nodding back in the direction of the door and the lab beyond. "I got all scared and everything, but I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings," he finished quietly.
Wanda smiled, feeling touched at his concern. "It's alright," she told him. "I know you didn't mean to. And I know what I can do can be quite frightening."
Steve nodded. "Yeah. But, I just…I thought I should tell you that even though it was scary, what happened, that I'm not scared of you."
Wanda blinked in surprise. "You're not?"
Steve shook his head. "No," he said, and his little eyes held nothing but sincerity.
Warmth spread through Wanda's chest, and she found herself blinking back tears again. "Thank you, Steve," she said softly.
He hesitated a moment, then climbed up on the bed and sat cross-legged beside her. "Is something wrong?" he asked gently, resting a hand on her arm.
"No. These are good tears," she said, acknowledging them since she couldn't make them go away. "It means a lot that you're not scared of me."
Steve tilted his head curiously. "Are other people scared of you?"
She nodded. "Sometimes."
"Why?"
"Because of what I can do."
Steve frowned. "You're nice, though," he said. "And you don't wanna hurt anybody. Maybe those people that are scared just need to get to know you better."
Wanda huffed a soft laugh. "Sometimes, I'm not sure they want to."
Steve nodded sympathetically. "Well, I want to," he told her.
Wanda smiled, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. She hadn't frightened him away after all. She wondered if he had any idea how very like his adult self he sounded. "Thank you," she said. "I'm very glad of that."
Steve smiled warmly. "So, what all do your powers do?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. "Bucky said the other day you had something called tele…telekineestis, but I don't know what that means."
Wanda smiled. "Telekinesis. It means I can move things with my mind. Like this." She waved a hand at her hairbrush, and it floated up off her nightstand in a red glow.
"Wow!" Steve said, eyes wide. "That's so cool!"
Emboldened, Wanda lifted a few other things, and soon a shoe, a jacket and an empty cereal bowl were floating along with the brush, and Steve's mouth was hanging wide open in wonder.
"I can push things, too," Wanda explained, lowering the objects back to their resting places. "I can't show you in here, because it might break the window. But it's very handy in a fight. Or I can make shields." She nodded at the hairbrush. "Pick that up and throw it at me."
A little hesitantly, Steve picked up the hairbrush and threw it. He grinned in amazement as Wanda conjured up a shield and the brush bounced harmlessly off and landed on the mattress.
"That's awesome," he said. "Can you learn telekinesis, or were you born with it?"
"Well," Wanda said. "Neither one, really. I don't think it's something you can learn if you don't have it, but I wasn't born with it. It was…given to me a little while ago. I'm still learning how some of it works."
"Like what?" he wondered.
"Well, I have trouble lifting larger objects," she said. "It's not that they feel heavy, but they require more concentration." He nodded, following her logic. "And I'm working on lifting myself up, but that's tricky too."
"You mean like flying?" he asked in awe.
"Sort of," she corrected. "More like…jumping a long distance, or maybe hovering. It takes a lot of concentration, and I'm not very good at steering yet, but I'm practicing."
"That's so cool," Steve said.
Wanda looked at him curiously. There was something they'd been working on in training, though she hadn't come close to mastering it yet. This Steve was much smaller, though… "May I try something?" she asked. Steve nodded, and she focused her energy on him. He gasped as he started to rise up into the air, seated on a red swirl of energy.
"Whoa!" he said, looking around as if confirming that he was actually floating. He looked back at her with a grin spreading from ear to ear. "I'm flying!" he said.
"Yes, you are," she said, smiling back. She lifted him higher, until he was nearly at the ceiling, and once she was sure he was centered over the mattress, she let go. He dropped down and bounced on the mattress in a fit of delighted laughter.
"That was amazing!" he exclaimed, rolling around to sit up. "Can we do it again?"
Turns out the little fella really isn't that different from the big one. Up next, Steve discovers TV, there is ice cream, and Tony learns that he is not immune to the warm fuzzies.