I can't thank you all enough for the kind reviews, follows, and favorites! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far! :)

A few things:

Most of this story will be in Tony's POV. However, I will start to incorporate Peter as well once he gets a bit older and more characters are introduced. There will be times when being in Peter's head will be more beneficial to the story. :)

I will be following the MCU canon events timeline, with changes made to include Peter and Tony's new relationship. We all know that Tony is very protective of Peter in canon. That will be the case here as well, and with Peter being so young at first, that protectiveness is going to be more obvious. I believe I can do this while keeping Tony in-character, although I daresay he will be showing his "softer side" more often that he otherwise might.

"Oo-kay," Pepper said slowly. "What did you do this time?"

"I… um…" Tony stammered, sliding the tie from around his neck and letting it fall into a heap on the bed. He groaned softly as he spotted a splotch of ketchup staining the delicate pink and purple silk. Pepper had given him that tie a few years back for his birthday. It was one of his favorites.

"I may have taken custody of an orphaned kid a few hours ago."

Dead silence greeted his words. As the seconds ticked by, Tony mentally kicked himself for not grabbing that second bottle of Scotch.

"You did… what?" Pepper finally asked. "Oh God, Tony, please tell me I just heard you wrong. Because that's one of the craziest things you've ever said to me."

"You didn't," he choked out. "His name is Peter, and he's sleeping on the couch down the hall right now."

"On the couch… ? But… why?" Pepper demanded. "What on Earth would possess you to do such a thing?"

"It's kinda a long story. You see—"

"I mean, what would ever make you think that you could take care of a kid? How did this even happen?"

"If you'll shut up and listen, I'm gonna tell you!" Tony barked into the phone.

"Fine! Then tell me!" Pepper barked back.

Tony plunked himself down onto the bed, absentmindedly starting to work on his shirt buttons. "Rhodey and I had just finished our ceremony; we'd just gotten in the car to come home when I got a phone call from this social worker in Queens. She had this kid there whose aunt and uncle were killed during the drone attack. His parents died a few years ago in a plane crash."

"But that doesn't make any sense, Tony!" exclaimed Pepper. "Why would a Queens social worker just randomly call you—"

Unbuttoning the final shirt button, Tony tried to shrug it off, letting out a soft curse when he realized he'd forgotten to undo the sleeve cuffs. "The kid was wearing an Iron Man helmet at the Expo, Pep," he said. "I pulled up the footage. The fucking drone locked onto him, thinking he was me, and this kid just stood his ground. If I hadn't landed behind him at that precise moment and taken the goddamn thing out, he would've been blown to ashes."

"Wait, what?" Pepper asked. "So this drone thought—"

"The drone thought the kid was me, Pepper!" Tony snapped. "It was locked onto his helmet, ready to fire. He would've been toast in about two seconds if I hadn't found him when I did."

"Okay, that's all well and good. But I still don't get why—?"

Finally wrestling out of his shirt, Tony tossed it towards the end of the bed, watching with dull amusement as it slid off the edge and onto the floor. "Honey, the social worker said that the kid asked her to call me. That there was no one else available to take him in. It was either me or foster care. And after I saw that footage… Pepper, the boy was fearless! This tiny little kid just stood there and faced down a drone ten times his size, and he didn't even flinch!" Tony scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just couldn't let someone that brave be thrown into some random foster care home. I just couldn't. I mean, who knows what could happen to him?"

"Tony," Pepper said, with an eerie calmness to her voice. "A kid isn't just another one of your machines, or one of your AIs. You can't just turn a kid off or put them away when you're tired of them!"

"Surprisingly, I am aware of that—"

"And they can be loud, and they smell funny, and—, and—, they get sick! You know you hate being around sick people, Tony! What're you gonna do when the kid sneezes on you for the first time! Or worse!"

"Okay, I'll admit I hadn't quite thought of that, but—"

"It can't be too late to bring him back, Tony. Just call the social worker in the morning and tell her that you've changed—"

"No! That's not gonna happen. I signed papers, Pepper. The kid is now under my official, albeit temporary, guardianship. There's no going back. It's a done deal."

There was another pregnant pause, broken only when Pepper sighed heavily into the phone.

"Oh, Tony," she said sadly. "I know you're trying so hard to change, and this is all very noble of you, but do you honestly know anything about raising a child? I mean, you've barely been able to take care of yourself all the time that I've known you, and—"

"And that's why I really need your help," interrupted Tony. "I am a bit out of my element here, admittedly, so please just get yourself out here as quick as you can and help me."

"And what makes you think I can help? I don't exactly have any experience with kids either, in case you've forgotten."

"Well," Tony said slowly. "You're a woman, for one thing—"

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it!" Pepper retorted. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I know how to be… motherly! Come on, Tony!"

"Okay, you're a very kind and nurturing woman—"

"That's not helping!"

"Okay, okay," admitted Tony. "I admit, that wasn't the smartest thing to say. But please, Pep. I need you out here. I'm scared that the kid hates me already. I have no idea how to even talk to him, much less try and plan a funeral for his aunt and uncle. Please. I really need your help!"

Tony could hear the noise from Pepper's pen over the phone, clicking open and closed in her hand. "All right, fine. I'll catch a flight to New York first thing in the morning."

"Oh please, come tonight!" Tony pleaded. "Be here in the morning when he wakes up!"

"Tony, the jet is still in D.C., in case you've forgotten," Pepper said. "And besides, I don't mind flying commercial from time to time."

"I can send the jet back right now!"

"I'm not done working for the night yet, Tony! I wasn't planning on yet another crisis occurring before I've even been able to repair the damage from the last one!"

"Touché," Tony conceded. "I'll see you tomorrow then. But as soon as possible, please. Right now the poor kid's stuck with me, Happy, and Rhodey, and you know how dangerous that can be."

"Oh Lord, yes I do. I'll be on the 4am to New York."

"I'll send Happy to pick you up. Thank you, Pepper."

"Hmph," Pepper grumbled. "I don't know why I put up with you sometimes."

"Hey, at least I didn't try and give you strawberries again," said Tony.

Pepper scoffed. "Oh, yeah, 'cause this is so much better!"

"Well, it kinda is," Tony mumbled, grimacing. "I'll see ya tomorrow."

"All right," she sighed. "But please don't sign up for anything else in the meantime without talking to me first."

"You got it, honey."

After a quick call to Happy to let him know of Pepper's flight plans, Tony tossed the phone onto the bedside table and flopped backwards onto the pillows. He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath.

What the hell was I thinking?

A small hand rapping on the bedroom door woke Tony from his fitful sleep. He groaned as he rolled over, surprised that he'd actually been able to sleep at all, and just now realizing that he was still wearing his dress pants and undershirt from the day before.

"Yeah?" Tony croaked, scrubbing his palm over his dry eyes.

"It's morning, Mr. Stark," came the shy, squeaky voice of the kid as he slowly opened the door. He was still dressed in his pajamas and carrying his polar bear, with his curly hair sticking up in all directions. "You should get up now."

Tony pushed himself up into a sitting position, raking a hand through his hair. He blinked against the harsh sunlight streaming through the crack between the curtains, thanking whatever that he'd at least thought to close them the night before. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm hungry," the kid said, watching him through narrowed eyes as Tony slowly got to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised," Tony grumbled, stifling a yawn. "You hardly ate anything when we got here last night."

Peter's scowl deepened, and he squeezed the stuffed polar bear to his chest. "I didn't like it."

"What kid doesn't like French fries?"

"I like French fries," Peter retorted. "Just not those kind."

"Oh? Then what kind do you like?"

Peter shrugged his narrow shoulders, and Tony noticed for the first time that his striped pajama shirt was hanging off of him, with the sleeve cuffs dangling down over his hands, nearly down to his fingertips. The kid definitely didn't have any weight to spare.

"I only like the skinny kind. Those big ones have too much potato in them."

"All right," said Tony slowly, his eyebrows knitting together. "Too much potato, huh? Well, maybe later we can find some skinny French fries that have less potato in them, but for right now, I think I'll order some breakfast." He cocked his head. "You do like breakfast, don't you?"

Peter shrugged yet again. "Depends."

"On what?" asked Tony.

"On what it is," Peter answered.

Tony could feel his blood pressure rising. Why was every single question like trying to pull teeth? "Okay… so what'd ya usually have for breakfast?"

Peter looked down at his feet, and he buried his face into the polar bear, his lower lip shaking. "My auntie would always make me scrambled eggs and toast in the mornings, before school," he said softly. "But on weekends, she let me have Lucky Charms."

Oh shit, please don't start crying, Tony thought frantically. At least not until Pepper gets here!

"So… how 'bout I order both scrambled eggs and Lucky Charms," he suggested in a rush. "Then you can pick what you want. Sound good?"

Another shrug. Tony was starting to think the kid's head was going to wobble right off his skinny neck if he kept that up.

Taking a quick glance at his watch, Tony was surprised when he saw it was already half past nine in the morning. Pepper should be there within in the next couple hours. "So, why don't you get dressed, and I'll order the food," he suggested. "Can you dress yourself?"

Sticking out his bottom lip, Peter turned on his heel and marched down the hall to the shopping bag filled with clothing. Upending it out onto the couch, he pawed through the huge pile until he found a pair of grey sweatpants and a dark blue sweater embossed with a big green alligator across the chest. "I'm not a baby, Mr. Stark," he grumbled as he ripped off the price tags and stomped off towards the bathroom. "I'm a big boy."

Tony flinched as the bathroom door slammed closed. Yep, he hates me.

Picking up the hotel phone, Tony dialed the number for room service.

"How may I help you, Mr. Stark?" asked the attendant who answered.

"Yeah, um, you guys got any Lucky Charms available?" he asked.

"I'm sure we can find some for you, sir," answered the attendant. "Will that be all?"

"No, no," Tony said quickly. He tapped his fingertip against his chin. "We also need some scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and apple juice. Oh, and a Mimosa."

"Very good sir. Give us about twenty minutes, if you please."

"Yeah, sure," Tony replied. "Thank you."

Tony had no sooner hung up the phone when his own telephone rang, still sitting on the dresser back in the bedroom. Thinking it might be Pepper, Tony sprinted back to grab it, rolling his eyes when he saw the now-familiar number of Rita Wilson.

"Mr. Stark," she said as he answered with an out-of-breath "hello". "How are things going?"

"Boy, you weren't kidding when you said you'd be checking up on me," Tony quipped. "It's barely been twelve hours!"

"How is Peter doing, Mr. Stark?" she asked firmly.

Other than the fact that I think he hates me?

"Um, he seems to be doing okay," Tony said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You know, we're adjusting. Or, trying to, at least."

"I see," she said warily. "And where is Peter now?"

"He's in the bathroom, getting dressed."

"Very well. And what were your plans for today?"

"Um…" Tony stammered. "We're gonna start talking about the funeral arrangements." As soon as Pepper gets here.

"That's a good idea, Mr. Stark," said Rita. "And it might help little Peter to have some say in the planning process. I'm sure he can tell you if they were members at a church somewhere, for example."

"Yeah, sure, I can do that," said Tony. "I'll talk to him about it while we're eating breakfast."

There was a pause. "It's quite late in the morning for a boy that age to have not yet had breakfast, Mr. Stark."

Tony gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, he was pretty tired last night. He slept in a little."

"Hmm," replied Rita. "I wouldn't make that a habit. Trying to establish a sound daily routine for Peter should be one of your first priorities. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tony said, as politely as he could muster.

"I will contact you again tomorrow morning, Mr. Stark," she said. "And I'll expect to hear all about the plans for the funeral, as well as any other plans you have for Peter for the rest of the week."

"Yes, ma'am," said Tony, a bit less politely.

"Have a good day, Mr. Stark."

"Mmm," Tony grumbled as the call disconnected.

"Who was that?" said Peter's small voice from behind him, causing Tony to jump. He whirled around to look at the boy, noting that like his pajamas from the previous night, the sweater he was wearing hung off his bony shoulders like a sack. One small hand was wrapped around the waistband of his sweatpants, as if to help hold them up. He looked as if he was trying to wear clothing that belonged to an older brother.

"Oh, that was Ms Wilson, the DSS lady," Tony said. "She was just checking to see how you're doing."

"Oh." Peter walked over to the table by the picture window, looking out over the bustling city fifty stories below. Seeing the kid standing next to the huge, floor-to-ceiling window made him somehow look even smaller than he already was, and Tony felt that same, unfamiliar protectiveness start to swell up from the pit of his stomach that he'd felt the day before, while watching the drone footage.

And suddenly Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, trying to-reform-himself playboy, and philanthropist—had no earthly clue of what to do next.

But, then again, Tony Stark never, ever backed down from a challenge, no matter how mad the challenge might be. And while he highly doubted that either of his college degrees would be of much use in trying to learn how to parent a little boy, Tony had always prided himself on being a rather quick study.

And besides. He had the perfect example of what not to do in his own father. Howard Stark had been many things, some of them great. But he'd sucked at being a dad.

Pursing his lips in determination, Tony called after the kid. "Hey, kid, c'mere for a second. Let me help you with something."

Peter turned to look at him, a curious look on his face, but didn't move away from the window. Nonplussed, Tony crossed over to him and knelt, looking him straight in the eye.

"Here, let's see if we can get this to fit a little better, yeah?" he said quietly. At Peter's slight nod, he rolled the left cuff of the kid's sweater back twice, revealing his hand. "You know, when I was a kid, I used to sneak into our butler's bedroom all the time and put on his clothes. I'd walk around in there, pretending that I was him for awhile, until..." Tony's voice trailed off, remembering how angry his father had been when he'd caught him one day. After screaming at him for several minutes about the inappropriateness of Tony's actions, Howard had then proceeded to take Tony's computer away for a month, as punishment.

Alas, to Howard's dismay, the punishment barely slowed Tony down. He'd merely built a new computer out of some spare parts he'd found lying around and continued on with his life.

Shaking his head, Tony reached for Peter's right hand, smiling slightly when the boy offered it without hesitating. "Jarvis's clothes were even bigger than this on me, and I kept tripping on the pant legs because they were so long. But then one day, Jarvis came upstairs and found me trying to walk around in his clothes, and instead of getting mad at me, he just rolled the sleeves up, like this, until they fit me better."

Satisfied with the sleeve cuffs, Tony backed away slightly. "He also showed me a way to roll up the waistband of the pants, to help them stay up better. Do you want me to show you?"

Peter looked down at his thin legs clad in the grey cotton fabric, with the cuffed ends so long they were completely covering his feet. "Yes, please," he whispered.

"All right," answered Tony. Carefully, he grasped the waistband of Peter's pants, rolling it three times until it was snug against his waist. With his pants no longer in danger of falling off of him, Peter seemed to relax a bit.

"There, that's better, isn't it?" Tony asked, patting him once on the head as he stood back up.

"Yeah," answered Peter softly. "But I'm still hungry."

"Well, the food should be here soon." Tony said. He glanced around the room, looking for something else to distract the kid with when his eyes fell on a completely assembled Lego fire truck, sitting on the couch where Peter slept the previous night. "Hey, you like Legos?"

"Yeah, they're okay," Peter said as he gave his polar bear a squeeze. "George helped me build the fire truck this morning after I woke up."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "George? Who's George?"

Peter turned the polar bear around in his arms, showing its plushy face to Tony. "This is George."

"Oh, I see," said Tony, trying desperately not to smirk. At least it's not one of those imaginary friend-type things. "And is he as good at building things as you are?"

"Well," Peter answered. "He tried to tell me that we should use the directions, but I told him we didn't have to."

"Oh really?" Tony said, taking a closer look at the fire truck. He picked up the box, noting this particular Lego set contained 376 pieces. "So you put this together all by yourself, without using the directions?"

"Uh huh," replied Peter, shrugging as if that was nothing unusual for a seven-year-old kid.

Well, isn't that impressive? Tony thought. It was one thing for the DSS lady to tell him that Peter was intelligent; it was another thing for him to see evidence of it for himself.

"Hmm. Not bad, kid," said Tony approvingly. Peter gave him a small but genuine smile, as if pleased with the praise, however trivial it was, and Tony's breath momentarily caught in his throat. Was it really this easy to tell a kid they'd done good? He had graduated Summa Cum Laude from MIT while he was still a teenager, and yet even that incredible feat hadn't earned more than a stiff nod from Howard Stark.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter said softly, just as there came a knock on the door.

"Ah," Tony said. "That must be breakfast."

The smile dropped from Peter's face, and he turned back towards the window as Tony opened the door, allowing the bellhop to set up their breakfast on the table.

"Thank you," Tony said, slipping a twenty into the man's hand as he wheeled the cart out of the room. He was pleased to see three small boxes of Lucky Charms lined up on the silver-colored tray, along with a small pitcher of milk.

"Hey kid," he said, picking up one of the boxes and shaking it to get Peter's attention. "Come and eat. They brought you some Lucky Charms."

"Okay," Peter mumbled, climbing up into the chair closest to the window. He set his polar bear down next to him. "Can I share with George?"

"Sure," Tony replied as he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He watched closely as Peter opened one of the boxes, shook its contents out onto the tray, and proceeded to separate the various marshmallows by shape and color, feeding each piece first to George before popping them into his own mouth.

"Can I have some of the orange juice?" Peter asked, pointing to the goblet by Tony's left hand. "I like it better than apple juice."

Raising his eyebrows, Tony wrapped his hand around the goblet, shaking his head. "Um, no, sorry," he said. "This, um, isn't regular orange juice. But now that I know you like it, I can get you some tomorrow. Okay?"

Peter gave him a quizzical look. "But it looks like regular orange juice," he said around a mouthful of marshmallows.

"Yeah, well, it's not," Tony grumbled. He quickly drained the goblet and set it aside. "But like I said, I'll get some for you tomorrow. Capiche?"

Peter's brown eyes flicked between Tony and the now-empty goblet. "Capiche," he murmured.

"Ah, you know what that means?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Peter answered, picking up his cup of apple juice. "My auntie used to say it all the time."

"Hmm. Cool," said Tony as he folded an entire strip of bacon into his mouth. "So. When were done here, why don't you show me how you can build another one of those Lego sets while we wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Peter.

"Well, my… um… lady friend is on her way, and then Ms Wilson from the DSS office wants us to start talking about some things. She's going to help us."

"What things?"

"Aahh," Tony stammered. He absolutely did not want to say anything that would make Peter start to cry. "Well, things like—"

"Like the funeral?" Peter asked, his small shoulders sagging. "For Uncle Ben and Aunt May?"

Tony's heart broke a little at the sadness in the kid's small voice, and another surge of protectiveness rippled through him with an even greater force. "Yeah," he murmured. "That's one of the things. But, I also would like it if you could show me around your neighborhood a bit. Where you go to school, and where you like to eat, things like that. And we should probably go to your aunt and uncle's house so we can pick up your toys and clothes and stuff. Okay?"

Swallowing hard, Peter clutched George to his chest and nodded. "Am I gonna live here now? In this place?"

"No," Tony said gently. "We're just staying here while we figure out a few things. Once that's done, I'll take you to my house."

Peter bit his bottom lip. "Is your house close to here?"

Sighing, Tony shook his head. "No, it's not. It's on the other side of the country, actually. But we'll get you back out here in the fall once you're ready to start school again. The company I own is building a big building, and we can live there once it's done, so you can keep going to your same school." He pointed out the window, towards the Midtown site of the future Stark Tower. "Sound okay?"

Peter didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his head, looking out the huge window as he squeezed his polar bear in his arms. "Will you be there with me, Mr. Stark?" he finally asked in a shaky voice. His huge brown eyes filled with tears as he looked back at Tony, and Tony felt his heart skip a beat. In all his life, he had never felt anything quite like this.

No one had ever really needed Tony. As much as his mother may have loved him when he was a kid, his parents definitely hadn't needed him. Growing up, Tony's father wasted no chance to remind Tony that he'd have much preferred the company of some damn army soldier who'd died during the war than be with his own son. And Rhodey, as much as he was Tony's friend, didn't need him. He was a very smart and very successful Air Force Lieutenant Colonel in his own right. Not even Pepper, who'd worked for him faithfully for several years, and who loved him, didn't really need him. Certainly not like Tony felt that he needed her.

But this kid sitting in front of him, this tiny yet immensely brave kid, who at seven years old had already lost not one but two sets of parents, needed him. It was a wholly unfamiliar sensation, and also more than a bit frightening. But, Tony quickly realized, it was not at all unwelcome.

"Absolutely," he said firmly. He reached over and patted Peter gently on the shoulder, realizing with a start that the simple gesture of affection felt completely natural. "I'll be with you the whole time."

Peter nodded. "Then I guess it'll be okay," he murmured, and shoved another marshmallow into his mouth.

They'd just finished devouring the rest of the bacon when there was another knock at the door.

"Ah, that's probably Pepper," Tony said as he rose from his chair and walked over to the door, opening it to find Pepper looking ravishing, as always. "I don't think I've ever been this happy to see you," he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

Pepper pulled back to look at him, wrinkling her nose at his disheveled appearance. "Did you forget to shower this morning, Tony?"

"Oh, yeah," he sheepishly replied. "Kinda forgot about that, with everything else going on, ya know?"

"Well, don't let it become a habit," Pepper whispered as she elbowed him in the ribs. "You need to be setting a good example now, in case you'd forgotten."

"Who're you?" Peter suddenly asked, shuffling over from the table.

Pepper turned at the sound of Peter's small voice, smiling down at the messy-haired boy. "Well, hello there. You must be Peter?"

"Yes," said Peter, eyeing Pepper suspiciously. "Who're you?"

"This is Pepper," Tony replied, wrapping his arm around her waist. "She's here to help us out."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Pepper? You mean like the black stuff my uncle likes to sprinkle on his eggs in the morning? That makes me sneeze?"

"No, more like the sexy hot stuff I like to have with my pizza," Tony retorted. "And I don't think she'll make you sneeze, unless you're allergic to tight skirts and high heels—, ow!" Tony rubbed his side where Pepper had elbowed him again and knelt down next to Peter. "Anyway, she's gonna help us get the funerals planned. She's a master at planning things; much better than I am. She just tells me where to go and what to wear. I promise she's not gonna hurt you."

Peter's brown eyes quickly flicked up to Pepper before locking again with Tony's. "Okay," he whispered. "If you say so."

Tony gave the kid a quick smile as he got back to his feet. "This kid is a whiz with Legos," he said to Pepper. "Why don't you two work on another Lego set while I take a shower?"

Peter sighed heavily as he glanced back up at Pepper. "Okay." He walked over to the bags of toys, digging through them until he pulled out a set for a strange-looking airplane. "One of my friends at school has this one."

"Great!" Tony said. "Give me twenty minutes and we can be going."

At Peter's nod, Tony turned and headed back towards the bedroom just as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"What's up, JARVIS?"

"There's been an unusual amount of traffic on the SHIELD channels this morning, sir," the electronic voice replied. "Most of which is referencing a recent incident down in New Mexico."

"Oh? How recent?"

"Within the last couple of days, sir."

"Hmm. New Mexico, huh?" said Tony. "That seems like an odd place for SHIELD to be poking their noses around. All right, give me the Cliff's Notes."

"The majority is encrypted, sir, but from what I've been able to gather, this particular incident involved extraterrestrials."

Tony stopped short next to the bed. "It involved, what? You're sure it wasn't just another disgruntled, rage-mongering scientist?"

"Apparently they nearly destroyed a small town."

"Damn," Tony muttered, tapping his chin. "Um, okay. Send any info you've got to the house and I'll go through it when we get home."

"Already done, sir," said JARVIS.

"Any update from the contractor?" asked Tony as he dug though his suitcase for some clean clothes. He'd have to remember to thank Pepper later on. She'd been the one who suggested that he always keep a fully packed suitcase in the jet at all times, just in case.

"Yes, sir. Construction on Stark Tower will begin in one week, with an estimated time to completion of one year."

"Ah, they'll get it done faster than that," Tony objected. "They always overestimate their timeline to try and impress me. But in the meantime, start keeping an eye out for a temporary property. We'll need a place out here once the kid goes back to school in the fall."

"Very good, sir."

The hot shower was quite refreshing, and Tony was only mildly surprised to find the airplane Lego set nearly halfway constructed once he wandered back into the living room. Pepper was sitting on the couch, a look of awe on her pretty face as she watched Peter—and George—assemble one of the wings. The directions for assembly were nowhere to be seen.

"Happy said to just let him know when we're ready," Pepper said. "But Colonel Rhodes has already left. He said he needed to get back to D.C., and will call you later."

"Yeah, okay," Tony mumbled as he stepped closer to Peter. The boy had dumped all of the pieces onto the coffee table, and was holding the partially constructed aircraft in one hand while he searched for the next block with the other. Finding the proper piece, he showed it to George first, presumably to gain the polar bear's approval, then attached it in the correct spot.

Tony cleared his throat, disappointed that he had to interrupt the kid's work. "We should get going. I wanna be able to tell Ms Wilson that we've made adequate progress when she calls again tomorrow."

Attaching one final piece, Peter sighed as he carefully laid the partially-finished plane down next to the rest of the pieces and got to his feet, grabbing his Iron Man helmet from the couch.

"You don't need to wear the helmet if you don't want to, kid," Tony said as Peter moved to slide it over his head. "No one's gonna hurt you while we're out today.

Peter paused with the helmet just over his eyes. "Y—, you promise?" he asked shakily.

"Of course," Tony said, ignoring the skeptical look Pepper was throwing his way. "You're with Iron Man. Nothing bad's gonna happen."

"Mmm. Then, can I bring George?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, sure, why not," answered Tony. "I'm sure polar bears like to get out every now and then too."

"Hmm, okay," the kid said. He carefully laid the helmet next to the Lego airplane, clutching the bear to his chest. "Then I guess we're ready."

They met Happy down by the car, looking disgruntled as always. "Where to?"

"Queens," answered Tony, giving the kid's address.

Peter sat between Tony and Pepper during the ride to his aunt and uncle's apartment building, during which Tony managed to get from him the names of both his aunt's supervisor at the hospital where she worked as a nurse, and the name of his uncle's boss. Pepper promised to make the necessary phone calls for the funeral planning while they went through the rest of the apartment.

Arriving at the rather shabby-looking building, Peter grabbed for Tony as they exited the car, wrapping his skinny fingers around Tony's larger index finger and holding tight.

"Which floor is it, kid?" Tony asked.

"Seventh floor," answered Peter.

"There's supposed to be a police officer up there to let you in," added Happy. "I'll wait down here by the car."

Since the elevator was broken they had to climb the stairs, and Tony was sweating and cranky by the time they reached the seventh floor and greeted the NYPD officer waiting to let them into the apartment.

Peter froze as the door was unlocked, as if he was afraid to enter. Tony gave him a small smile, tugging gently on his hand. "C'mon, kid, it's all right. Show me your room?"

Swallowing hard, Peter nodded his curly head and led Tony through the apartment—smaller than their suite at the Four Seasons by about half—to his bedroom. Stepping inside the no larger than ten-by-ten foot space, Tony's eyes widened at how cramped it was. A twin bed with rumpled sheets was in one corner of the room, and a battered desk stood in the opposite corner next to the open closet. The small desk was piled high with Lego cars and motorcycles, and, Tony saw with pride, a damn good miniature mock-up of his own Iron Man Mark III suit, complete with arc reactor. There was also a framed picture of a slightly younger Peter laughing with a man and a woman, who Tony presumed must be his aunt and uncle.

"Did you build this?" he asked, pointing to the Iron Man suit.

"Uh huh," the kid replied, shrugging.

"Hmm, not bad! You even got the shape of the helmet exactly right," Tony said, watching Peter's face light up like a Christmas tree at the compliment. Wow, he thought with a mixture of sadness and amusement. It really is this easy to tell a kid they'd done good.

"Uncle Ben liked it too," Peter said softly as he reached for the photo. "He told all his friends at work how good it was."

"So, what'cha want to bring back from here?" Tony asked, gesturing around the tiny room. "Clothes? Books? Toys?"

Peter cocked his head, looking down at George before glancing towards his closet. "Yes, please. The clothes you got me don't fit right."

"Yeah, I think Happy underestimated how small you are," Tony admitted. "But we can get you some more that fit better. Okay?"

Peter tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. "Can I pick them out? These aren't that comfy, either. I like t-shirts and hoodies better than sweaters."

What the hell is a hoodie? "Sure, kid."

"Tony," came Pepper's voice from the doorway. "You guys doing okay?"

"Yeah," answered Tony. He glanced down at Peter. "We can have everything shipped to my house, and you can set it all up in your new room there. Sound good?"

"Will I have a real bed there?"

The simple question hit Tony like a punch to the gut. "Yeah," he murmured. "Look, I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch last night, kid. I'll make sure the people at the hotel bring in a bed for you for tonight. Okay?"

"I've scheduled the funeral for the day after tomorrow," Pepper said gently. "I need to know if you want obituaries to run in the papers or not."

Tony huffed out a sharp breath, pondering the pros and cons. He'd rather not invite the scrutiny that surely would accompany any word of Tony Stark attending the funerals of some random married couple from Queens. Especially, he realized, for Peter's sake. The kid had the right to grieve his aunt and uncle without reporters barking questions at him or flashing cameras in his face.

"Let's not do that until after the service," he said to Pepper. "You've gotten ahold of anyone who'd be coming, right?"

"I've been assured that all the necessary people will know about the service, yes," Pepper answered. "And I tried to emphasize discretion."

"Then we don't need to broadcast it," Tony said. He patted Peter on the head, again both shocked and amazed that these simple gestures of affection were coming so easily to him. Tony Stark was not usually one for this much touching. Even when he was with Pepper, he often had to remind himself to hold her hand or peck her on the cheek. But the kid almost seem to crave his touch, and so far Tony didn't feel awkward about it at all.

"All right, then I think we're just about done here," said Pepper. "I've arranged to have the furniture and kitchen supplies donated to a nearby battered women's shelter, and the clothing will go the Salvation Army. Peter's toys and clothes will be shipped to the Malibu house, along with the photographs and any valuables."

"Sounds good. And let's get our people out there working on remodeling a room for the kid too."

Pepper smiled, and Tony felt his heart stutter. She had such a radiant smile. "I took care of that last night."

"Thank you, honey," he said, looking down to see Peter wrinkling his nose. "What? You don't like honey, either?"

"That's what my uncle called my auntie," he said, holding up the photo. "And then he'd always kiss her." He leaned in, as if to divulge a secret. "On the lips."

Tony gave him a wicked grin as he grabbed Pepper around her waist. "Like this?" he said, and planted a big smooch right on her mouth.

"Eww!" exclaimed Peter, giggling. "Mr. Stark, that's yucky!"

"Nah, just you wait, kid," Tony said, laughing as he ruffled Peter's hair. "Once you get a bit older, it's not quite so yucky."

"If you say so," Peter mumbled, shrugging as he picked up his Iron Man Lego creation from the desk and wandered out of the room. Pepper watched him go, then turned to Tony.

"I still don't understand how all of this happened, Tony, but I have to admit, he is sure a pretty sweet kid. Not to mention absolutely adorable. I mean, those eyes! And those curls!"

"Yeah, he's growing on me," Tony said, trying to sound flippant, but he knew Pepper didn't buy it. She knew him too well.

"Yeah, that's what I meant," Pepper said with a wink.

"We should buy the kid a suit," Tony said. "For the funeral."

Pepper nodded. "I'll call on the way back to the hotel and schedule a fitting."

Tony tapped his chest over his arc reactor. "I'm gonna need one too. I, um, managed to spill ketchup on that tie you gave me."

"Well, I suppose a ketchup stain is easier to clean up than all the shattered glass in the garage. Or that television you blasted to pieces. Not to mention your mother's poor piano—"

"Repulsed," corrected Tony. "Not blasted, repulsed. And the piano wasn't really my fault. You see—"

"I'm not getting into that argument with you right now, Tony. I'm only trying to point out that your… impulse control isn't the best sometimes. And that might not be what's best for a kid, ya know?"

"Well, I can learn to do better. Shouldn't be too hard." Tony let out a long breath. "I don't know why, but somehow I really feel like I was meant to do this. Meant to take in this kid. After all the crap that just happened with the palladium poisoning and thinking I was gonna die, again, and then going through my dad's stuff, and the whole drone mess with Vanko and Hammer… It just seems so… like this was almost supposed to happen. Does that make any sense?"

"No," Pepper answered, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile. "But then again, not a lot about you makes much sense, so I'll just do what I do best and go with it."

Smiling, Tony pressed a kiss to her temple. "And that's why I keep you around."

"Only one of the reasons," she retorted. "But probably one of the biggest ones."

Exiting the tiny bedroom, they found Peter sitting on the patterned couch in the living room, introducing George the stuffed polar bear to Lego Iron Man. Tony's heart did a flip as the kid looked up and his innocent brown eyes locked with his. It almost felt like a power surge of some kind, as if his arc reactor was overloading, and the intense sensation caused Tony's jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists at his sides. In that moment, he knew that he would never, ever, allow another tragedy to befall this kid. Not if he could help it.

In all honesty, it was actually quite disconcerting at how quickly and easily the kid was worming himself into Tony's heart. It made him feel vulnerable, and Tony hated feeling vulnerable. It's one of the main reasons why he loved his armor. Iron Man made him feel invincible. Iron Man allowed Tony Stark to maintain his fantasy of seeming aloof and untouchable.

But then again, maybe this would be proof for the theory that Pepper had proposed way back before Tony battled the Iron Monger. Maybe this tiny, curly-haired kid, who loved Legos and chess and polar bears, was the key to proving that Tony Stark did indeed have a heart after all.

Peter's lips quirked into a smile, and Tony smiled back without hesitation.

Yep, he thought. I'm doomed.

Dammit.

I can't wait to see what you think! Please don't hesitate to drop me a review! :)