"You're home sooner than I expected…"
Peter nodded, smiling at Tony – who had walked out to the Quinjet pad when Friday had advised the jet was returning. Stark had reached them just as the rear ramp was lowering.
"We didn't bring any lunch, so it was finish up and get home or try to explain Groot if we stopped at one of the bases to eat."
"Which would have been tricky."
"Tricky is one word for it," Steve said as Groot and he walked to the ramp as well. "It was fine, though. We accomplished everything that we set out to do."
"Good." He looked at Peter. "How do you feel?"
"A little tired," the boy admitted.
"How's the hand?"
"It's just sore. Nothing too bad."
"Good." Tony looked at his watch. "Mom and Shuri will be home in a couple of hours. Why don't you go take a nap and make sure you're refreshed for whatever they have planned for this evening?"
"Yeah."
Peter left without argument, and had already said his thank yous to Steve and Clint for taking him on their flight. Tony turned to Groot.
"Did you have a good time?"
"I am groot."
Which could have meant anything, of course, but the young tree nodded and smiled as well, and Tony took that as a yes.
"Good." Groot left, too, and Tony and Steve both wandered back into the jet to walk to the cockpit and watch Barton finish his postflight. "Anything interesting?"
Tony was always interested in the newest tech, after all. Even when it was just for the jet.
"We didn't stick around to debrief," Clint reminded him. "So we'll have to wait until the bases send us their results."
"I'll go over them and let you know," Steve promised.
"Good. Do we have anything planned, this evening?"
"Steve has a date…" Clint said, looking over his shoulder at them.
"It's not a date."
"With who?" Tony asked. "Whom?"
"Carol…" Clint's voice was a sing-song, now, and it was clear he was enjoying himself. "They're going to a movie."
"You and Danvers, huh?" Tony asked, smiling. "Huh."
"It's not a date," Steve protested. "We're just going to see a movie."
"In a dark theater," Clint reminded the others. "Where they can sneak kisses and fondle-"
"We're not dating…"
"Sounds like you might be," Tony told him. "And why not? You're both adults. Do we need to talk about protection?"
Steve blushed, despite himself – and Clint and Tony both smirked. It was so much fun to tease him. Rogers took himself very seriously, most of the time, after all. And he was so perfect that he made Tony's teeth itch, sometimes.
"I had the talk with him," Clint assured the billionaire. "Somewhere over Virginia."
"I almost threw him out the back of the plane," Steve said.
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I'm the pilot," Barton reminded him with a grin. "Peter's hand is injured – and he's never landed other than in a simulator. I was safe."
"We're on the ground, now, though," Tony pointed out.
"But now I can go hide behind his girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend," Rogers protested. "What are you? Six?"
"Maybe. I can finish the postflight, if you want to go start getting ready."
"I have a few things to do, first," he said. "But thank you."
Grinning like an idiot, Rogers left. Tony turned to Clint.
"Need anything?"
"Nah. Go do whatever you need to do. I'm going to finish here and then find Nat."
"She's not back from the sanctum, yet."
"Really? Do we know why?"
His way of asking if everything was okay.
"Probably lost track of time canoodling with Stephen."
"Canoodling?" Clint echoed. "Don't let her hear you calling it that."
"I'm not crazy."
Stark left, then, also, and Clint shook his head and turned his attention back to what he was doing.
OOOOOOO
Karen woke Peter with the announcement that Pepper and Shuri were ten minutes out. He rolled over in his bed, winced when he rolled onto the brace, although he wasn't sure which hurt more; pinching the tender skin of his chest with the brace, or the pressure his weight put on the aching hand.
"Thanks, Karen," he told his AI, opening his eyes but not quite ready to wake up, yet.
He was pretty tired, but he wasn't going to admit it to anyone. The flight had been fun – especially with Groot on board. The young tree had enjoyed himself, and Peter, Steve and Clint had enjoyed watching him. Although a Quinjet couldn't be more exciting than a spaceship, Peter decided. It was still fun.
"Peter?" Tony's voice came over his watch's com, and he knew that Tony had probably been told by Karen that he was awake. "Mom's ten minutes out."
"I'm awake," he assured him. "I'll meet you in the garage."
"You alright?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
He stretched and threw the blankets back, sitting up. He'd had the planet dream, and – as always – it had been comforting and relaxing. He slept pretty well watching planets spin on their axis in space, apparently.
"The mind stone knows that, now," Alec told him. "So it'll do what it can to relax you."
"That's nice of it."
He appreciated it, for sure.
"Now that your hand is out of the bandages, you're going to need to start returning the stones to where they belong," the ancient sorcerer told him. "We can't keep them together like they are too much longer."
The boy felt a shiver of anxiety at the thought of handling the raw power from the infinity stones, again – especially considering the way his hand was already hurting. But he knew that Alec was right; and that the vibranium of the polymorph was muting the power, but nothing could ever really stop it. It would end up being a beacon for trouble if they stayed together like they were.
"The stones can mute themselves, to a degree," Alec told him. "They got a little excited when you snapped, is all. If you pull them from the polymorph one at a time, you shouldn't have any trouble."
Peter nodded, rolling out of bed, sliding his feet into his shoes and heading for the door.
"We need to get Vision back on his feet, first, then," he said. "Can we do that this evening?"
"It's up to you. And Tony, of course. He might make you be a kitchen helper."
Peter rolled his eyes, annoyed and amused at the same time. Alec's people had no concept for grounding their young. Of course, in his society, the children had been right in the minds of the parents and had instantly known if their behavior was overreaching and could feel their disapproval and generally stopped whatever it was that they were doing that needed correcting. On the other end, the parents could feel what their offspring needed before they even had to voice it, so to speak, and they were able to provide that. It was definitely easier all around.
"It wouldn't work with your species," Alec told him as Peter headed down the corridor toward the garage. "Your minds are too accustomed to being independent."
He knew that, too. But it was probably better that way. He didn't want to know what the people around him were thinking all the time. Although it might be helpful with MJ.
"Shuri's mind is the interesting one," Alec told him, absently, having no trouble following Peter's train of thought.
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
He didn't explain the statement, though, and Peter was distracted by his arrival into the garage. Tony was leaning against the Pontiac, which still gleamed in the light of the garage. The damages were on the other side, and Peter ran his braced hand against the smooth metal, feeling guilty for almost destroying the only real representation that he had from both his father and his grandfather.
Tony had been watching him walk up, and he noticed the change in his son's expression when he saw the car.
"Don't worry, Peter," he told him, also looking him over for any indication that he wasn't feeling good. He looked fine, though. Not even too tired. He must have had a good nap. "We'll start rebuilding it as soon as your hand is better."
Letting him know that he was definitely going to be in on the repair process. Which Peter appreciated.
"Thank you." He shook his head. "I still can't believe I was so stupid."
Which made Tony smile, slightly.
"Someday – when you have an entire afternoon – I'll tell you some of the stupid things that I did when I was your age."
Peter smiled at that, but he didn't have a chance to reply. The garage door, sensing the arrival of Pepper's sedan, opened, revealing a bright, sunny, afternoon, and the car pulling up. Pepper smiled when she saw the two waiting, and Shuri waved at them from the passenger seat, smiling as well. The chase car – always with Pepper when she was driving herself home (and especially with Shuri in the vehicle with her) veered off and headed around to the other side of the compound, while Pepper parked neatly next to Peter's car.
The boy went around to the passenger side, and Tony opened his wife's door.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Stark," he murmured, lovingly, leaning in to take her bag and steal a kiss. "How was the drive?"
"It was beautiful. I love this time of year." She watched as Peter greeted Shuri, who handed him a small gift bag, and then turned back to Tony. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful. Just the way I like it." He winked as he closed her door behind her, and turned to Peter. "Deena is expecting you in the lounge in ten minutes," he told their son. "Don't be late."
Peter didn't even roll his eyes. He just nodded, ignoring Shuri's amusement.
"I won't." Pepper and Tony left, and he looked at the little giftbag Shuri had handed him. "What's this?"
"Your surprise that you requested."
"That's just a figure of speech," he told her, smiling. "You didn't really have to bring me anything." She reached to take it back, and he moved his hand before she could. "Which doesn't mean that I don't want it," he added.
Shuri laughed.
"I will miss you, Peter."
They turned to head for the exit, and rather than open his gift bag, he caught her hand with his undamaged one.
"I'll miss you, too. We've probably kept you longer than T'Challa or your mother really expected, though."
"Much longer," she agreed. "I do not mind, though – and neither do they. When you are feeling better, you must come for a visit to allow them to reassure themselves that you are uninjured."
"I will. Thank you."
She squeezed his hand, lightly, and he asked her what she'd done at the tower, which was more than enough conversation to see them to the lounge, where they parted. She went to sit with Peter Quill – who the princess found entertaining (although she was fairly certain her brother wouldn't approve of her hanging out with a space pirate) – and a few others, while Peter went to the bar, where the bartended was waiting, an apron in her hand and a smirk of amusement on her expression that she wasn't even bothering to try and hide.
Peter set his giftbag behind the bar and waited to be told what he was going to be doing that evening