They spent another thirty minutes in the DMV before they were able to leave. Despite the fact that he was now officially licensed, Peter wasn't old enough to drive in the city because of their specific laws, so it was Tony who was behind the wheel once more when they pulled into the garage under the tower. He smiled, though, when every time he looked over at the boy he was looking at the paper representation of his driver's license.

"When we see Pepper act sad," Tony told him when they got out of the car and headed for the elevator. "Or upset, at least. We'll let her assume the worst…"

"You know I'm not a very good liar…"

"I'll do the lying," he assured him. "Like I said, you just act sad."

Peter gave him a dubious look, but nodded. When the elevator door opened, he and Tony walked out into the party area. They were going to go to Pepper's office, but stopped when they saw that she was at the bar, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She turned at their entrance.

"How did it go?"

Peter forced down his excited grin and tried to look upset. Tony shook his head.

"Not well… something about rear ending a police cruiser and running over a bike messenger."

"He didn't." she looked at Peter. "You didn't…"

He couldn't help himself; the smile won and came forth, which made her smile, too, realizing that she was being played.

"You passed?"

Peter nodded, and she hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"Good for you." She let him go and looked over at Stark. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight."

He only smiled, too, always smug when he'd managed to fool her. It didn't happen often, after all.

"It was easy," Peter told her. "I worried for nothing."

"You do that a lot," she pointed out, softening the criticism with another smile and a hand on his arm. "Can I see it?"

He pulled the small piece of paper from his pocket – he would have to put it in his wallet soon, or it was going to get wrinkled – and handed it to her.

"It's not the real one," he explained, too excited about the whole idea of having his license to realize that she'd gotten her license before and knew how the process worked. "That comes in the mail. This one is just a copy."

"It's a good picture," she told him, handing it back to the boy. "We'll celebrate tonight, okay? That way Ned and MJ can gloat with you."

"Okay."

"We can have cake, and presents," Tony told them.

Peter frowned.

"You don't get presents for passing your driver's test."

"You should."

"I don't need any," he said. "I have everything I want."

And then some.

"Fine. No driver's license presents. But we'll still celebrate. You wouldn't deny us a chance to have cake, right?"

"It's my birthday," he reminded him. "We can have birthday cake."

"We're doing your official birthday party Saturday evening," Pepper told him. "At the cabin. Cake, presents, ice cream and all the trimmings."

"How are we going to snowmobile in a birthday cake?" Peter asked, curiously.

"We're not. We're going to pretend to – because of MJ – but Stephen will help us with that when the time comes."

"You guys know I don't want any presents from you, right?"

"We know," Tony told him. "But we can't have a birthday party without presents. How would it look if Ned and MJ outshine us giving you gifts, and Pepper and I don't have anything to give you?"

"You spent hours teaching me to drive. That was the present I wanted."

"That was fun. That can't be your present. That's like you buying me dinner and then eating it because it's your favorite dish."

They both looked at him, and he shrugged.

"You know what I mean. Just let us get you presents, okay? If you don't, Pepper will piss and moan and pout. And you know what she's like when she's not happy…" Pepper gave him a look that warned him he was getting close to the line, and he gestured at her. "See? Like that."

Peter smiled.

"Fine. But nothing big. Okay?"

"Bigger than whatever Ned gets you."

"Fine."

"Good."

Tony looked at Pepper.

"We'll see you back at the compound?"

"Yes. With the kids."

Stark kissed her, then brushed another kiss against her cheek – a wordless apology for being an ass.

"Have a good day, dear."

She smiled – a wordless acceptance of his apology – and nodded.

"I'm going to make a call and get our new driver put on the insurance plan."

Which made Peter grin, and Tony groan, dramatically.

"Do you have any idea what it costs to insure a teenage boy? We can't afford that."

"Daddy just will have to wait for the new fishing boat, I suppose." She reached for her phone, and shooed them both away. "Stay out of trouble."

OOOOOOO

Tony drove them back to the compound. They didn't speak too much, or about anything to important, but that was fine. Both of them were comfortable enough with the other that they didn't need to fill in any silences – although occasionally Stark would grin and cheerfully slap Peter's left arm with the back of his hand, proving that even if he wasn't talking to him, he was obviously thinking about him.

It made the boy smile, every time.

When they pulled into the garage, Peter automatically looked at the Pontiac, and realized something had changed. Where there had once been a very expired license plate on the back of the car, a shiny new vanity plate was now affixed in its rightful spot. PARKER1.

Tony noticed, as well.

"I still would have gone with CATCHMEIFYOUCAN."

"That wouldn't have fit," Peter pointed out, grinning. Tony's cars all had his last name. If it was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for Peter. "Besides, I don't want people trying to catch me."

"You make a good point." They stopped at the entrance to the garage. "You're going to do homework?"

"Yes."

"You're not taking any with you to Montana. You know that, right?"

"Which is why I need to get it done, now."

"Fine. Lunch in the lounge, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'll have Friday call Karen – or you have Karen call Friday if you get hungry sooner."

"Okay."

They parted ways, and he headed for his quarters, feeling about as happy as he could. Happy enough to be willing to work on a couple of essays that he needed to write for English. He seated himself on the floor in front of his sofa, using it as a backrest and the coffee table as a desk and opened a document that he'd actually started the day before.

That one was easily finished, and the next one was well begun when his spider senses and a knock on the door both made him look up and see that Natasha was peeking into his room.

"Busy?"

He smiled and shook his head. He would never be too busy for her.

"Not at all."

"You're not eating a hot fudge sundae and drowning your sorrows in ice cream and chocolate," she noted as she walked over and sat down on the couch. "Does that mean that you passed?"

Peter grinned and nodded. He stood up so he could sit beside her and pulled out his license for her to see.

"Good for you!" she admired it far longer than she really needed to – it wasn't a complicated document, after all. "Take me for a ride?"

He felt another thrill go through him, and nodded, feeling proud and excited and something else that he didn't know how to articulate. He could take her for a ride, now. He could take anyone, if they wanted. Not because they were experienced drivers and he had to have one with him in order to go anywhere, but because they wanted to come. He could just hop in the car and go – even if it was just to the gas station down the road for a fountain pop and a pepperoni stick. Which he could just go to the bar in the lounge to get, if he wanted one. He had a newfound freedom, and it was exhilarating.

"Let me ask Tony if I can."

Limited freedom. But still freedom.

He was far too responsible to just leave without telling Tony where he'd be, after all.