"Where's Peter?"

Stark looked up from his tablet and saw Clint and Steve standing by the corner table in the lounge where he'd planted himself, waiting to have lunch and double checking that his systems were all up to date.

"He took Romanoff for a drive."

"By themselves?" Clint asked.

Tony nodded.

"Yeah. He has his license, and he's a good driver. Besides, it's Romanoff and his dad's car. He'll be careful."

Steve sat down.

"Are you nervous about turning him loose on the road?"

"I am. But not because of him. Like I said; he's a good driver. And he's cautious by nature. It's the people who will driving out there around him that have me concerned. There are a lot of idiots out there."

"And drunks," Clint added, also sitting down. "And druggies. And people texting while eating and doing their makeup."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Barton. I feel a lot better now."

"Just telling it how I see it."

"Well, stop."

A motion at the entrance to the lounge caught his eye and he saw Peter and Natasha walking in, both looking cheerful. Clint got up and hurried to meet them, grabbing Peter around the waist in a hug before the boy could stop him – not that he would have.

"Happy birthday!"

Peter grinned. It was a hug, but somehow he still ended up being wrestled to the ground and pinned under Barton, who obviously was planning on thumping his chest 16 times instead of opting for the traditional 16 swats.

"Thanks."

Peter rolled under him before he got to more than a few thumps and slipped out of his grasp so he could scramble to his feet, and then offered Clint a hand up.

"Be careful, Clint," Natasha warned. "He's driving, now. We don't want to injure his driving hand."

They headed towards the table, and Tony and Steve.

"How was the ride?" Clint asked as they sat down and Tony slapped Peter's shoulder in his most common greeting.

"It was great," Natasha told him. "We put the top down."

Stark frowned.

"It's 50 degrees out."

"We had the heat on."

"It was still pretty cold," Peter admitted. "But fun."

"Where did you go?" Tony asked.

"To the gas station."

Natasha smiled.

"Peter knows how to show a woman a good time."

Now Peter smiled, too, and gestured toward Stark.

"Learned from the best."

"Hey!"

"He did buy me a corndog," Natasha admitted.

Stark looked at Peter.

"You let her eat in your car?"

"I trust her."

"Did you eat already, then?"

"No. I'm not going to try to eat and drive until I have a bit more experience under my belt. Besides, I don't trust me."

"He's a good driver, Tony," Natasha told him, seriously – although she was still smiling. "You did a good job teaching him."

Torn between preening and frowning, Stark opted to preen. He was always pleased when an experiment or project turned out right, but he was more pleased – and a little relieved – that she was able to make him feel that much better about the boy driving himself places.

"Good. Thanks." His attention went to Peter. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Yeah." He was starving Natasha's corndog had looked pretty good. "You guys eating?"

Steve shook his head.

"We already did. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thank you."

"We were told that presents have to wait until Saturday," Barton told him. "Even mine. So you'll have to wait."

"But you're not going to be there," Peter pointed out. "It doesn't count."

Barton was going to fly them to Montana in the Quinjet, and was going to drop the copious amount of supplies that they were taking at the cabin itself, even though they weren't able to land near the cabin and would snowmobile in. But he was spending the weekend with his family, as he normally did, and would pick them up Monday.

"You'll have to argue that with Pepper," Steve told him. "I was dragooned into promising that I would take Clint's present with us so you could get it on Saturday. It's already packed in my bag."

Peter smiled, glad that Steve had decided to join them. He could have spent his weekend doing anything, and Peter knew he had plenty that he liked to do on the weekends, but he'd decided that he would take a mini vacation with the others.

Captain America had never been sledding, either.

"I can wait." He leaned back. "You guys know you don't have to get me anything, right?"

"Of course we do," Clint said. "It's the whole point of a birthday party. And don't forget; mine is coming."

He winked, and Peter smiled.

"Go order us up some lunch, Peter," Tony told him. "I'm hungry."

Peter was, too. He got up and headed to the bar, and the adults at the table watched as the bartender hugged him – obviously telling him happy birthday – and then must have asked about his driver's test, since the boy reached into his pocket to pull out his paper license once more and handed it to her to admire.

"He did okay?" Stark asked Natasha.

"Yeah. He's going to be fine."

"You're just saying that because he bought you a corndog," Barton accused her.

She shrugged.

"What can I say? I've always been a sucker for the finer things in life."

OOOOOOOOO

Lunch was eaten alone. The others had things that they had to get done to prepare for the extended weekend, and had left the lounge to get them done. Peter and Tony didn't linger over their meal, and when they were done, Tony asked about his homework, making sure that he wasn't stressing about it. In the last five days, they'd only had one sleepwalking episode, and that one had found Peter ending up in the garage and the teleporting stone still on the boy's nightstand where it belonged.

They were winning, and Stark wanted to keep it that way.

"I got some done," Peter told him. "Still have a bit, but it's not too bad."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Only if you want to read a book for me and write an essay on it."

"Nope."

"Then I'm good."

"You can bring the book with you," Tony said. "It'll give you something to read on the flight – there or back."

"Okay."

"Before we turn to other matters," Stark said, pushing his plate away and turning his full attention on the boy sitting across from him. "Is there anything that you want? A cool new toy? A new version of a video game? Something that you would like to have but it's just not something you would normally ask for? Today is the day to tell me – because it's the best chance you have of actually getting it. No matter how ridiculous."

Peter shook his head.

"I have everything I need."

"But do you have everything you want?" Tony asked him, seriously. "I know that there are some things I can't do…" he didn't mention May, but they were both thinking of her just then. "But there are a lot of things that I can. Anything you secretly want but were afraid to ask for?"

"I can't think of anything."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. My license was pretty high on the list, and I have it, now – with a lot of help from you."

"You did the hard part."

The boy shrugged, but didn't argue – even though Tony had invested a lot of hours into helping Peter prepare for his test. Hours that could have been spent tinkering in his workshop, remaking the newest version of the Ironman suit.

"I'm good."

Stark rubbed his cheek, debating if he wanted to make more suggestions, but short of a hooker or something, he couldn't think of anything he could get the boy, either, that he didn't already have – or at least have access to. And that would not go over well with Pepper. Besides, Peter would probably blush the moment he mentioned something like that. He smiled at the image that that particular train of thought brought up, and shrugged.

"Did you have anything planned for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Spend time with you?" Peter suggested. "Unless you're doing something important?"

Tony made a show of stretching, nonchalantly, and shrugged.

"I had planned on doing a couple of crosswords…" he said. "But I could be talked into working on the new version of your web fluid, if you're interested."

Peter grinned.

"That would be great."