This one comes to you by special request of usa123. Steve loves baseball, and he's seen it on TV, but Tony decides to do one better and take him to, in Steve's words, "a for real baseball game" in Yankee Stadium.
Not that Tony Stark ever spent a great deal of time around kids, but the longer Kiddie Cap was around, the more Tony got the feeling that he wasn't a typical kid. The P.R. stunts he'd done at local schools left him with this impression of noise and sticky hands and whining. Steve was self-entertaining and sometimes quiet enough that it was possible to forget he was there, he was rarely sticky, and Tony had never once heard the kid whine. (Of course, he'd never heard the big guy whine either, so maybe he just didn't know how.) He just…he seemed content with whatever was on offer, and Tony couldn't remember being that chill as a kid.
Even though he'd been in 'the future' for a little while now, there were still little things the kid said or did that sometimes rubbed Tony the wrong way. Okay, maybe those weren't the right words—it wasn't like Steve annoyed him. But there were just little comments or actions—like Steve asking where he should put the foil from his baked potato so it could be washed and saved, or being remorseful to the point of tears about catching the knee of a new pair of pants on his bedframe and tearing a hole in them, or making an innocuous comment about how nice it was that fridge always had enough food in it for everybody—that just reminded Tony how tough Steve's childhood had been, and it made him sad.
Kids should be worried about things like finishing up their favorite crayon too fast, or missing their teddy bear while it was in the washing machine, not where their next meal was coming from, so Tony found himself making it his mission to make sure the little guy had everything he needed. He did occasionally butt heads with Barnes on this, seeing as their definitions of 'everything he needed' came from different dictionaries. Tony leaned more toward the give-him-whatever-his-little-heart-might-even-begin-to-think-of-desiring school of thought, whereas Barnes tended more toward the stop-feeding-him-so-many-cookies-or-he-won't-eat-his-dinner side of things. And, okay, fair enough, Tony was new at this whole parenting gig, so he tended to defer to Barnes' judgement. But every now and then, he just had to spoil the kid.
"Guess what we're doing today?" Tony asked at breakfast.
"I don't know, but I'm suspicious of your tone," Natasha said, narrowing her eyes at him.
"What?" Tony protested. "This is my I-have-a-brilliant-plan voice."
"Exactly," Clint agreed, pointing at him with his fork. "Your last brilliant plan set the fire alarm off at three in the morning, and I had to go outside in my pajamas."
"You're just bitter that the world got to see you in your fuzzy unicorn slippers," Tony said. He held up a hand, blocking his view of Clint's face. "And you don't get to guess anymore. Steve! Guess what we're doing!"
"Uh…" Steve said, pausing with a bite of waffle halfway to his mouth as Tony caught him off guard. "Well, it sounds like you think it'll be fun." Tony nodded encouragingly and Steve smiled. "Are we going to the park?"
"Even better."
"The zoo?"
"Better."
"The moon!"
"Okay, maybe not quite that good," Tony admitted while Barnes laughed. "I don't have a spaceship. No, we're going to a Yankees game!"
Steve's mouth dropped open. "For real?"
"Yep. Got us a box. The whole team's coming."
Steve was gaping at him like a fish, and even Barnes looked surprised. "Like, a for real baseball game?" Steve clarified. Tony nodded. "At the stadium with tickets for seats and everything?"
"Sure. How else would you watch a game?" Tony wondered.
Steve shrugged. "Me an' Bucky would sometimes climb up a tree outside the stadium to watch. But we get to actually go inside and watch the game from up close?"
"We sure do," Tony said. "Front row right behind the dugout."
Clint let out a low whistle. "Those are good seats."
"Told you it was a brilliant plan," Tony said. He clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Sound like a brilliant plan to you?"
"It sounds like a great plan!" Steve enthused, jumping up from his seat. "Let's go!"
"Slow your roll there, buddy," Tony chuckled, catching Steve's shoulder and pushing him back down into his chair. "It's, like, three hours 'til the game starts. We've got time." He nodded down at Steve's plate. "Finish your waffle."
"Oh, yeah."
In hindsight, maybe he should have waited to bring up the game until closer to time to go. Steve was vibrating with so much excited energy that he almost gave himself an asthma attack and had to lie down on the couch for a little while.
"Sorry," Tony said with chagrin.
"Don't worry about it," Barnes said. "I think he would have done this whenever you told him; so at least he's doing it at home." He smiled at Tony. "Hey, thanks for doing this. That was really thoughtful."
"Oh, well…" Tony said awkwardly, waving the words away. Normally, he reveled in praise, but Barnes didn't give it out much, which made this dangerously close to feeling like a moment. There was also the creeping realization that all this hanging out in his lab together and chatting, or going out to do fun stuff, or making dessert together, or whatever it was he did with Little Steve might all be things he wished his dad had done with him, and that was just blatantly crossing the line into soul-searching, and nobody had time for that.
Barnes, thankfully, moved the conversation on. "Question about these seats: Are they shaded, or do I need to pack sunscreen? If it's out in the sun, Steve'll be glowing like a stop light by the end of the day."
"Sunscreen, definitely," Tony said. "I figured he might prefer being closer to the action over air-conditioning."
"Yes, he will," Barnes agreed. "Alright, so, sunscreen, and I'm gonna go find him a hat."
Eventually they loaded up and headed for the game. Everyone was wearing Yankees gear—they'd even managed to dig up a jersey for Thor somewhere, who had no idea how baseball worked but was, as usual, very excited. Steve was wearing a light long-sleeved shirt and jeans, minimizing potential sunburn, and Barnes had scrounged up a hat for him from somewhere that was a little too big and that, Tony had to admit, was adorable as hell.
Most of the ride to the stadium was spent with Steve eagerly explaining the rules of the game to Thor and Wanda. He started bouncing up and down in his seat as they pulled into the parking lot. "Can you believe it, Bucky?" Steve exclaimed, clinging to Barnes' metal arm and swinging back and forth as they crossed the parking lot. "A real baseball game! In the real Yankee Stadium!" He threw back his head and made a weird sort of growling noise, evidently having run out of words to express his enthusiasm. "I'm so excited!"
"Really?" Sam said with a chuckle. "I couldn't tell."
Steve paused in his swinging on Barnes' arm to narrow his eyes suspiciously at Sam and try to figure out if he was serious or not. Then he shrugged and resumed his swinging, then launched himself at Tony and wrapped his little arms around his leg and almost knocked him over. "Thanks for bringing us, Mr. Tony," he said earnestly.
"You're welcome, kid," Tony replied, smiling down at that excited little face. He peeled Steve off his leg so he could keep walking and took the little guy's hand in one of his. "Now, this is a big place, so stick close, but…" He gestured theatrically as they moved through the entryway. "Welcome to baseball of the future."
If Steve's jaw hadn't been attached to his skull, it would have been on the floor by now. He was whirling his head around like he didn't know where to look first, trying to take in all the flashing screens, shiny glass and chrome, and displays of baseball memorabilia. To Tony's amusement, he seemed to find the x-ray machine at security equally as fascinating as the rest of his surroundings.
"Would it show my skeleton if I went in there?" he wondered, eyeing the conveyor belt and screen.
"Probably, but let's avoid the radiation, huh?" Barnes said.
The crowd got bigger once they were through security as people milled around souvenir shops and snack stands before the game. Tony looked down to make sure somebody had hold of Steve, and was surprised to see him smiling up expectantly at Thor, who grinned broadly and hoisted the little guy up onto his shoulders.
"The God of Thunder gives piggy back rides?" Tony asked.
"They do this all the time," Clint said, as if Tony should have known that. "Ooh! Cotton candy!" he exclaimed, then rushed off to one of the snack stands, dragging a perplexed Wanda behind him.
Tony pointed the rest of them in the direction of their seats. Had Clint cared to wait, he would have discovered they had a box with wait service. Tony Stark did not stand in line for snacks.
"Wow!" Steve exclaimed, wriggling down from his perch at a speed that showed a frightening lack of regard for his own safety. Thor's hand around his arm brought him a little more solidly down to earth. "We're so close! We're practically on the field!" He leaned over the front railing eagerly, Barnes twisting a casual, secure hand in the back of his shirt as he did so. They were close, but it was still a pretty good way down.
"These are awesome seats," Sam said, settling down into his chair happily. He nudged Steve with an elbow. "You know, we're close enough that there will probably be a couple of balls flying our way."
Steve's already wide eyes widened at this pronouncement. Tony decided to wait until later to tell him he had a little meet-and-greet arranged with the players.
Their server came into the box to introduce himself and see if they needed anything. He did a little fangirl thing upon realizing who was sitting in his box, and Tony smiled and promised him some autographs later. He also pointed out Steve and his severe peanut allergy and made sure the kid knew not to bring anything that had so much as been in the vicinity of a peanut into the box. (That did rule out a couple of Tony's favorite game snacks, but it wasn't like there weren't plenty of options left.)
Clint and Wanda returned with their cotton candy before the anthem started—apparently, Wanda had never had cotton candy, hence the excited dragging. The players made their way out on to the field, and Steve waved at them and squeaked excitedly when a few of them waved back. They all stood up for the anthem, Steve quietly whispering instructions to Thor before it started playing. Then the game began and they cheered and took their seats. Steve settled down into a seat between Tony and Barnes, wriggling in gleeful anticipation.
As the game progressed, Tony thought that this was the loudest he'd ever heard Little Steve get. The kid was cheering and hollering, and he was yelling insults at the opposing team that were so dated they made Tony snort into his drink. (His favorite might have been when he called the umpire a jingle-brained dewdropper, though he also enjoyed watching Sam choke on his pretzel when Steve called the opposing pitcher a Palooka. The kid's Brooklyn accent really came out with the insults.) He was tempted to reprimand him with a sharp, "Language!", but he would have missed the joke completely.
With snacks so readily available, Tony was inclined to give Steve free rein of the menu, but Barnes had no qualms about arching a negative eyebrow and slowing things down. "Kid could stand to gain some weight," Tony said quietly, leaning back behind Steve so he wouldn't hear them arguing. (Dear Lord, was he actually co-parenting Captain America with the Winter Soldier?!)
"Yes, he could," Barnes agreed. "But he's not going to do that by eating until he throws up all over the place. I'm not saying don't feed him; I'm just saying slow it down."
Tony sighed. "You do make a good point," he admitted begrudgingly, and Barnes smirked a little and turned back to the game. Steve finished his soft pretzel and Tony refrained from offering him anything else until lunchtime rolled around.
Everyone put in their orders for lunch, and their server's eyes kept getting wider and wider as Thor's order continued to grow. Barnes checked his watch and pulled his backpack out from under his seat, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen and reapplying it to Steve, who accepted with only minor squirming.
"You planning some kind of trip?" Sam asked, eyeing the backpack as Barnes worked on the sunscreen. Tony leaned over and peered into the backpack—there was another bottle of sunscreen, multiple bottles of water which he probably wasn't supposed to have brought into the park but had gotten in somehow and kept making Steve drink at regular intervals, a little first aid kit and a couple of Epi-pens, another hat, a spare shirt and what looked like a pair of socks, and that was just the layer Tony could see.
"I was a Boy Scout," Barnes said with a quirk of an eyebrow that made it hard to tell if he was joking or not.
After Steve was done with the sunscreen, Barnes passed the bottle around. While Wanda was explaining to Thor what it was for, Steve leaned over and tapped Tony's arm. "Excuse me, Mr. Tony, what is that you're eating?"
Tony chuckled. "You trying to get me to give you some of my lunch?"
Steve looked offended that Tony would suggest such a thing. "No!" he insisted. "I just don't know what that is."
Tony laughed at the affronted expression on the kid's face that looked an awful lot like Big Steve. "Sorry." He looked down at his lunch. "Have we seriously never had nachos since you got here?"
Steve shook his head.
"Right. Well, the nacho," Tony began, picking up a chip to demonstrate. "Is a masterful feat of snacking engineering. You start with the chip. It has a nice salty flavor, but doesn't have anything too strong going on to distract you from the other flavors. It's sturdy, so it holds your toppings and forms the bedrock of the dish. You need a chip that can hold a good mouthful on top without breaking, otherwise the whole thing becomes subpar."
Steve was listening just as intently as if Tony was trying to explain how to build an arc reactor.
"Then you've got your meat," Tony went on, enjoying the dissertation. "You've got options there, most of which are acceptable, but me, I like chicken. Nicely grilled, just a little crispy on the edges, but still nice and juicy. Then you get your vegetables, which is where you create texture to enhance the overall snacking experience. Onions have good crunch; black beans are soft and a good filler; black olives give you a little more juice without getting mushy, and jalapenos are there not so much for texture as for kick. Tomatoes are too juicy and make things soggy, and only heathens like Clint put them on nachos."
He gave Steve a moment to absorb this information and to shoot a haughty eyebrow over to Clint, who had stuck his tongue out at him.
"The crowning glory of the nacho is the cheese," Tony said. "Now, you can get your gourmet nachos with all kinds of fancy cheese on top, but the supreme nacho has cheap, gooey, uncomfortably orange and difficult-to-actually-label ballpark cheese. I mean, look at this." He tilted the chip to let the cheese run off one corner, where it began a slow, oozing journey back to the plate. "That is a thing of beauty right there." He tipped the nacho back up before he lost the cheese and popped the chip in his mouth, crunching loudly.
"Add guacamole or sour cream as desired, but the quality on those is harder to police when you don't know the chef, so I often leave them out. And, boom." He popped another one in his mouth. "Nachos."
Steve was still watching him, impressed, and Tony really did appreciate the little guy's undivided attention to his long-winded speeches that everyone else rolled their eyes at. He grinned. "Here," he said, holding out a chip. "Try one. Oh, wait." He flicked the jalapeno off the top. "You may not want the spice. But go for it."
Steve took the chip in both hands, cradling it carefully so as not to spill any toppings. He studied it for a moment, trying to figure out where to bite, then bit into it with a loud crunch. His eyes widened happily as he chewed. "That's really good," he said. He finished it off, then wiped an errant blob of cheese off his mouth with his napkin. "Thanks, Mr. Tony," he said. He held up his as-yet-untouched chili cheese dog that had been waiting in his lap. "You want a bite of my hotdog?" he offered in exchange.
Tony didn't particularly want any, but Steve seemed eager to share, so he thanked him and took a bite. Steve was grinning as he handed it back, so he'd made the right move. Barnes was smirking at him over the top of Steve's head, and Wanda was watching from her seat with a sappy smile. Tony busied himself with making sure he hadn't gotten chili in his goatee and ignored both of them.
Steve was normally a neat eater—sometimes almost obsessively so, like when he cut his waffle into perfectly symmetrical squares this morning—but as evidenced by his earlier yelling of insults, this was apparently an occasion where decorum went out the window. There was chili all over his face by the time he was done, and Tony understood now why Barnes had brought a spare shirt in his backpack. He'd also brought along a pack of wet wipes, which he pulled out now and used several of to clean Steve's face and hands before letting him put the clean shirt on.
The game went on, every other inning punctuated by Barnes forcing Steve to put on more sunscreen and drink some water. Steve complied with minimal protests. (As far as Tony could tell, he didn't actually mind the directives, he just didn't like the way the sunscreen smelled.) When the crowd started to sing, Steve happily hopped up to teach Thor the words to 'Take Me Out To The Ballgame'. They made quite a picture, Thor standing up and balancing Steve on his hip with one arm, the other flung out joyfully. The arm of Steve's that wasn't holding on to Thor was waving back and forth like he was conducting the crowd, and they both had their heads thrown back and were singing with abandon. Tony was pretty sure he wasn't the only one snapping pictures of that.
They'd ducked a couple of wayward balls flying over their seats, but so far anything flying their way was a little too high or off to the side to catch. In the final inning, a foul ball finally came flying right at them, and Clint and Natasha both dove for it. For possibly the first time ever, Clint outmaneuvered the Black Widow and came up clutching the ball victoriously.
"Wow!" Steve clapped appreciatively. "That was a great catch, Mr. Clint!"
"Thanks," Clint said, doing a little mock curtsy and making Steve giggle. He flicked his wrist and tossed the ball in Steve's direction. "Here you go."
Steve's hands automatically went out to catch it, and he clutched it tightly in both hands for a moment, staring at it in wonder, then stretched out his arms and offered it back. "Oh, no, you caught it. I don't wanna take it from you."
Tony almost rolled his eyes at that one. The kid really had been that wholesome, all-American guy his whole life, hadn't he?
"Nah, you keep it," Clint insisted, waving a hand. "What am I gonna do with it?"
"Are you sure?"
"Sure." Clint nodded out at the field. "Maybe when the guys head back in after the game, we could try to catch one of them to sign it for you."
Steve gasped excitedly, then hugged the ball to his chest. "Wow. Thanks, Mr. Clint."
Clint reached over and ruffled his hair. "Sure thing, Cap."
The Yankees pulled ahead to win in the end, and there was much cheering and yelling and waving of pennants. There was even a rumble of thunder and a couple cracks of lightning before Sam put an arm on Thor's shoulder and reminded him to calm down a little.
"Where are you hurrying off to?" Natasha asked as Tony stood up. "If we go now, we're gonna have to fight our way to the car."
"Who said I was going to the car?" Tony asked. He nodded to the gate at the front of the box that an attendant was coming up to unlock. "We've got a meet and greet with the team," he said nonchalantly, smirking as everyone stared back at him in surprise. "Did I not mention that?"
Barnes chuckled and scooped Steve up as he moved to join Tony at the stairs. "You're just full of surprises today. Come on, Stevie; let's go meet the team."
Steve's eyes were the size of dinner plates as they headed down to the field. Barnes moved to set him down once they hit the ground, but Steve clung to his side, his little feet dangling inches above the grass. "I'm really allowed to walk on the grass?" he whispered.
"Yeah," Barnes said with a smile.
"I get to walk on the field inside Yankee Stadium?" Steve asked, still not setting his feet down.
"All-access," Tony said with a smile, throwing his arms out. "Walk wherever you like. Hell, go out there and run the bases if you want."
Steve's mouth dropped open, and Tony laughed as amazement at the offer washed away Steve's disapproval of Tony's choice of language.
They met the team then, and this was no perfunctory meet and greet—they got a substantial chunk of time on the field, and the team was incredibly excited to get to meet the Avengers. (Lest any of them think that America's hero would miss America's game so cavalierly, Sam made sure to explain that Cap had gotten called away for a very hush-hush mission.) Steve was clinging to Barnes's metal hand shyly, staring at everything in awe, but these guys seemed to be used to young fans, and soon he was surrounded by people crouching down to his level with friendly smiles and handshakes and offers to sign his baseball.
"I know I said it already," Barnes said, arms crossed over his chest and smiling as he watched Rodriguez and Gregorius take Steve out to run around the bases. "But thank you for doing this."
"Oh, it was nothing," Tony said, smiling as Steve jogged to first.
"No," Barnes said, turning to look at him. "It's really something. This was always something Steve wanted to do. I mean, going to a real game. This extra team stuff, that wasn't a thing that happened back then. But a real game…He and I did that, when we got older. But he doesn't remember that now," he said, and Tony caught a touch of wistfulness there. He knew Steve had been helping Barnes piece back together memories of his old life, and he hadn't really thought yet what it had to be like to become the keeper of the memories when you only had a fraction of them yourself. He hadn't thought about it before and he very much did not want to think about it now, and it seemed like Barnes didn't want to either, because he shook his head and looked back out at Steve and smiled warmly.
"This really is amazing, Stark," Barnes said, and he looked back at Tony and smiled. "Thank you."
Tony nodded, feeling like it wouldn't be right to just brush it off with some kind of platitude. "I thought he needed something like this," he said.
"He did," Barnes agreed. He clapped Tony warmly on the shoulder before walking over to greet Steve, who was running back to them happily, leaving Tony standing there in shock at the realization that the Winter Soldier had just voluntarily committed an act of friendly physical contact toward him.
"Bucky!" Steve cried happily. "Did you see me? I ran the bases in Yankee Stadium! And Mr. Rodriguez showed me how to slide into home!"
"Yeah, I saw," Barnes said, grinning. "That's awesome, Stevie."
"Thank you, sir," Steve said, turning and shaking Rodriguez's hand. Then he turned and hurled himself at Tony, surprising him and knocking the air out of him as he collided with him and flung his arms around his waist. "Thank you, Mr. Tony," he said happily, hugging him tightly. He looked up at him, joy sparkling in his bright blue eyes. "This was the best day ever."
Tony smiled warmly and hugged him back. "You're welcome, Steve. I'm glad you had fun."
They chatted a little longer with the team before heading back to the car. Steve was straggling behind as they walked, not complaining when Barnes scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way to the car. He held his signed baseball in his hands the whole way home, staring down at it happily. Back at the Tower, no one but Thor and Barnes were particularly hungry after the day of ballpark snacking, so they put together a light dinner. Even though it was barely six o'clock, Steve was clearly exhausted after a long day of baseball, sun, and excitement, and he slumped over almost as soon as he sat down at the table and fell asleep face-down in his sandwich.
"Alright, that's just adorable," Clint said, and Natasha said something in Russian that Tony suspected sounded a lot sappier when you translated it into English.
Barnes chuckled softly and carefully picked up their sleeping Captain, brushing breadcrumbs off his face and carrying him back to his room to put him to bed.
Tony was feeling pretty tired and content himself, and had every intention of getting an early night tonight, but after dinner some lab results he'd been waiting on came through, and he got caught up in a fit of engineering and didn't make it to bed until almost four in the morning. He slept until well after lunch, and when he got up and headed toward the kitchen, something on the table outside his door caught his eye.
It was a white piece of paper, folded in half to stand up like a card. The words 'Mr. Tony' were written on the front in impeccably neat green crayon. Tony opened it up to find more letters in the same neat writing.
'Dear Mr. Tony,' they said. 'Thank you so much for taking me and everybody to the ball game yesterday. Baseball is my very favorite game, and it was so exciting to see it at a real stadium. I had a great time and I will always remember how much fun I had and how nice it was of you to do that for me. Thanks again, and I hope whatever invention you were working on last night works just how you want it to. Love, Steve.'
All around the edges of the paper were little red crayon marks that mimicked the stitching on a baseball. Underneath the writing was a drawing in colored pencil of two figures standing on a baseball field. One was tall with spiky brown hair and a beard and a nice suit, holding onto the hand of the smaller figure with blond hair. Both were smiling happily.
Something was caught in Tony's throat that was hard to pretend was anything but warm fuzzy feelings, and he let them sit there for a minute before swallowing it down and setting the card on the desk in his room with a smile and going to find something to eat.
Tony has long since given in to feeling the parental feelings about the little fella. And, really, it's not the worst thing.
Up next, Steve discovers the joys of running loops of the Tower hallways, much to Bucky and Sam's confused amusement, and it's not Tony's fault at ALL. Nope.