"He did what?"

"He went sledding. Last night."

"Is he alright? Who-"

"He's fine, Tony."

"Where is he, now?"

"We kept him in bed with us until around 5:30 and then I popped him over to his own, covered him with a couple of warmed blankets and made sure he didn't wake before I left him. When he wakes up – in his bed – he won't have any idea what happened, and we should probably keep it that way."

"Did he say anything?"

"Only that he was happy, and that he had to prove to May that he was."

Stark frowned.

"Why didn't you come get me?"

"Because he wasn't hurt. He was pretty cold, but we put him to bed and he warmed up. No harm, no foul as they say."

"I could have done that."

"I like you plenty, Tony," Strange told him. "But not enough to share Natasha's bed with you."

They were the first ones up. Well, technically, Steve had made an appearance to take Jack out, but he'd simply started the fire in the fireplace and had then gone back to bed for a little while longer. It was fairly early, and there wasn't any hurry to start their day, but when he'd smelled coffee brewing, Tony had come looking for it and had found Strange at the dining room table with a mug of coffee in front of him, and half eaten English muffin on a saucer, reading the morning paper.

After pouring himself a cup, Stark had joined him, not bothering to comment on the fact that they almost certainly didn't deliver any New York newspapers out to an isolated cabin in Montana by 6 am Saturday morning.

That was when Stephen had told him what had happened the evening before.

"Natasha had another dream?"

He knew about the first one, of course.

"She woke up knowing exactly where he was."

"That would be the Mind stone at work?"

"That's my guess. I supposed it could be Ms. Maximoff – but if that were the case, I imagine she would target you as to Peter's nocturnal activities – not Natasha."

"Why is the Mind stone telling her and not me?" He sounded almost offended, Strange noticed. "I'm his father. It has to know that. Peter does."

Strange couldn't help but notice how easily that phrase had come out, and he had to hide his smile behind a sip of his coffee before Tony saw it. Instead, he shrugged.

"I wouldn't dream of trying to understand the thing's motivation, Tony. Maybe it recognizes Natasha as Peter's guardian. You're clearly the father to the boy – and Pepper's the mother. But you all know that Natasha would probably wipe out worlds to keep him safe. The Mind stone probably knows that, also."

"So would I."

"No. You're good at the superhero thing," Stephen told him, sincerely. "But you're not the instinctive killer that Natasha is. You can't be. Not without having had the kind of upbringing that she had, and the training. The stone probably recognizes that. Be the dad. That's all Peter needs from you."

Stark scowled at that, but could also see the truth in it. He shrugged, deciding that he'd talk to Pepper about the sleepwalking thing to see what she thought they might do that evening, but let the subject drop for now.

"How about you wrangle me up a piece of toast?" he asked, wiggling his fingers, suggestively.

"There's a toaster in the kitchen, you know. We brought plenty of bread."

"Where'd you get your English muffin?"

Strange rolled his eyes, and a plate of toast appeared in front of Stark.

"You're lazy, Tony."

"Yeah. I know."

OOOOOOO

Peter woke in an unfamiliar bed, and for just a moment thought that he must have been sleepwalking. Then he remembered why the bed – and the room – was unfamiliar, and smiled at his automatic assumption, pleased that he had been wrong. He stretched, lazily, and tried to remember when he had decided he needed so many blankets on him and assumed that he must have gotten cold in the middle of the night or something.

His room had a window, and from the bed he could see that the sun was out, and it wasn't too early. Then he realized that he could smell coffee, and pancakes, and his stomach growled, driving him from his bed sooner than he might have if he wasn't so hungry. He pulled on a shirt, and his shoes, and headed for the stairs that led down to the main floor.

All the adults were up, he saw. Steve, Natasha and Tony were all at the table eating breakfast. He glanced into the kitchen as he walked over to the dining room and saw that Strange and Pepper were standing in front of a griddle having a discussion about something that must have been amusing, to judge by the way she was laughing.

"Good morning," Tony said, smiling at him when he noticed his arrival.

"Morning." Peter included everyone in the greeting, with a smile for Natasha, who winked at him. "Where's Jack, Steve?"

"Ned took him outside."

"How do you feel?" Tony asked as he sat down next to him.

"Good. Thanks."

Pepper came into the dining room with a plate piled high with pancakes. She set them in the middle of the table for everyone to help themselves, and hugged Peter from behind, pressing a hand on his forehead.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Great, I think," he told her, leaning back against her and looking up.

"You look sleepy."

"I'm okay."

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

A plate appeared in front of him – not magically, just slid into place when Strange joined them in the dining room as well.

"MJ is the only one still sleeping," Tony said as Peter stabbed a few pancakes onto his plate and reached for the butter. "Once she's awake, we can decide what we want to do this morning – or we all go our own ways and do whatever we want. I know Pepper and Ned both want to try cross country skiing – and I have no interest in that."

"Can we go snowshoeing?" Peter asked.

"Yes. If you want."

They brought 6 pairs, so anyone who wanted to try it could. Even if they had to stagger things out to accommodate everyone.

"I'd like to try it." He looked at Steve and Natasha. "What are you guys going to do?"

"I'm going to do the dishes," Rogers told him. "After that? Maybe I'll try cross country skiing, too. If I can convince Jack to come."

"I'm going to laze around here this morning," Natasha told him, running a hand absently along her ribs – which were mostly healed, but ached that morning from the cold and the activities of the day before. "Why don't I watch him for you?"

"Stephen?" Stark said, looking at the doctor, who had seated himself at the table. "Come snowshoeing?"

"Are you crazy? That seems like a lot of exercise for very little gain."

"It'll be fun," Peter assured him. "Like hiking. Only in the snow."

"I could laze around here with Natasha," the doctor pointed out. "Keep her company…"

"You should get out and get some fresh air," Natasha told him. "We can laze around together this evening, when it's too dark to be outside."

"You don't want the company?"

She smiled, knowing he was just trying to get out of doing anything active, if he could.

"I'll have Jack. He's good company. Go play with the boys."

Strange rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Fine. But if I get eaten by a moose, I'm going to blame you."

"That is a chance I am willing to take," she assured him, reaching out and patting his hand.