"So, I'm invited but Ned and MJ aren't?"

"Correct." Strange shrugged. "You know everything that the Wakandans know," he pointed out. "And while Ned knows most of it, and would have been allowed to come if not for the fact that his mother needed him home, this weekend – the Avengers don't want to run the risk that someone might let something slip in front of MJ, who is extremely observant and most certainly doesn't know everything."

"And doesn't need to know, either," Wong added.

"True. I'm going to go for the weekend, but if you're not interested in being away that long, T'Challa advised the final ceremony is going to be late Sunday – their time."

"That's the part I'm looking forward to seeing," the other magician admitted. "It'll be interesting to see what the Wakandans have in mind for Peter."

"You really think that they'll offer him some kind of rewards?"

The two had spoken about the upcoming weekend several times the previous week, and Wong had practically guaranteed Stephen that T'Challa would give Peter something to show the appreciation of his country. Whether Peter wanted it, or not. It was part of their honor code, he'd explained. Strange had passed the warning onto Tony and Pepper, but since they trust T'Challa not to make any crazy overtures to their son (A Wakandan wife, for example, or a herd of rhino) they didn't bother to warn Peter, figuring the boy didn't need anything to worry about.

"Absolutely."

Strange trusted Wong's sensibilities when it came to that kind of thing. He was a scholar of human behavior, after all

"I'm going to head to the compound. Are you coming?"

"No. I'll wait until Sunday."

"If you insist."

Wong smirked.

"Take notes, though."

"Absolutely."

The sorcerer vanished from the sanctum and appeared an instant later in Natasha's quarters, since he'd called her to warn her that he was coming so she could be clear. She'd let him know she'd be in Peter's rooms, so that was his first stop, and he knocked, lightly, but didn't wait for an answer before letting himself into the living room area.

And promptly shook his head.

Peter was on the floor of his quarters, wrestling with Clint Barton – who wasn't going to Wakanda for the entire weekend of celebrations, but intended to be there for late Sunday like Wong. Clearly, he was making sure Peter didn't miss him too much in the interim.

Strange looked at Natasha, who was watching the two of them but was cuddling Nutmeg to keep the kitten out of trouble.

"Do they just wait until I'm coming to start wrestling?" he asked. "Just so I can break it up?"

"Nope. It's an all the time thing," she assured him.

"Hey, Stephen," Peter said from somewhere under Clint's left arm. "Are you packed?"

"I knew I forgot something," the sorcerer said, frowning.

A moment later a bag appeared in his hand.

"That's handy," Natasha said, approvingly, offering him her cheek for a kiss.

"I'm a handy guy."

She smiled her agreement, but turned her attention to the two on the floor.

"Are you guys done? I want Peter in one piece."

"Then we're done," Clint conceded, releasing his grip on the boy, and rolling off of him. "I don't want to give him a bruise before he goes to see his girlfriend."

Peter scrambled to his feet.

"Your wife isn't going to be there," he reminded him, saucily, dancing away when Clint took a swipe at him and missed. "She's going to be stuck at home with you."

Natasha chuckled, pleased that her baby was getting better at banter. Especially at Clint's expense. It was an indication that he was happy, and relaxed.

Clint scowled at her amusement.

"Don't encourage him, Nat. He's becoming a wiseass."

She smirked, handing Nutmeg over to Stephen and pulling Peter into her arms.

"Of course, he is," she agreed. "But he's our wiseass."

Peter made a show of hiding behind her and stuck his tongue out at the archer, who grinned and shook his fist, dramatically, at the boy.

"Next time, Parker…"

Strange smiled at the interaction, beyond the shock or contempt that he might have felt at one point to see them drop all their dignity and play with a teenager. He understood, completely, and he had been known to tease Peter, too, at one point or another in the time that he'd known the boy.

"Are we ready?" a new voice asked, making everyone turn toward the door. Steve Rogers smiled at Stephen. "Hey, Stephen. Wong isn't coming?"

"He'll come to the last part, but has passed on the rest. Where's Carol?"

"She's getting her bag. She'll meet us in the workroom."

"Who's watching Nutmeg, here?" Strange asked, looking at the kitten he was holding.

"Nick is," Peter replied, reaching for the little creature. "He's watching Ironpig, too."

"But not Jack?" Stephen asked Rogers.

"I'm taking Jack home with me," Clint said. "Lila insisted."

"She wanted Nutmeg and Ironpig, too," Natasha explained. "But that is a lot of spoiled animals on one little farm."

"Especially with Peter Pony already there," Clint added.

Peter flipped his kitten over onto his back and rubbed his belly.

"Nutmeg isn't spoiled," the boy said. "Are you, little man? Are you? Huh?"

The adults all rolled their eyes, amused at the baby talk and the way Peter buried his face in the furry belly – and the kitten purred, loudly, in approval.

"Go take him to Nick," Natasha told Peter. "I'll bring your bag. Meet us at the workroom."

"Okay."

The boy left, kitten in hand, and Strange shook his head.

"You guys don't get freaked out watching him get his face so close to Nutmeg like that?"

"I scream inside every time," Romanoff admitted, wryly. "But there isn't any indication that he's going to do anything, and-"

"And Peter isn't going to give him up without a fight," Clint added.

"And even if he wasn't the baddest teenager in the world, I wouldn't do anything to upset him, if I could help it," Steve finished. "Besides, if Nutmeg wanted to eat one of us, he'd have eaten Tony a long time ago."

"How do you figure that?"

"He's the most arrogant, right?" Clint asked. "Ego probably tastes delicious."

Stephen smirked.

"I hope not."

Tony wasn't the only one with an ego, after all.

OOOOOOO

Peter's phone rang as he was walking down the corridor with Nutmeg safely tucked under his arm. He grinned, still pleased to have his phone back – three days early, because Tony and Pepper had decided they wanted him to have access to it for the weekend, in case he wanted to take pictures and send them to Ned or MJ.

Of course, he had already packed the camera case that Elmer Ruff's wife and daughter had sent to him from Idaho, but he didn't bother to mention that, since he was really happy to have the phone in hand, again. He'd missed over a thousand texts – which was insane considering he didn't have that many friends – and had spent part of the day clearing them out.

He looked at the display.

"Let's see what Uncle Ned wants, huh, big guy?"

"Peter! Where are you?"

"At the compound." Ned looked agitated. "Is everything alright?"

"My mom just said I can go. Is it too late?"

The teen grinned, feeling a surge of cheer.

"How did you manage that?"

"Big, sad, puppy eyes – and I managed to squeeze out a tear. Then I said it was your first week being ungrounded and you'd probably need even more therapy than you're already getting if you weren't allowed to have company your own age around. She threw up her hands – you know how she does that – and told me to call."

"Let me drop Nutmeg off with Nick and I'll ask. Pack some clothes, though, just in case."

"Great."

The call ended, and Peter hurried his pace, just a little. He was sure that none of the others would mind if Ned came, but he didn't want to make them late to arrive in Wakanda, either.