Dinner was lasagna and well worth waiting for. The addition of Clint and Bruce didn't cause any problem when it came to cooking something like that, since it was a meal that was designed to fill as many people as were present. There were fresh baked bread rolls, garlic butter to go with it and green beans. Rather than allow MJ to walk to the table – even though she assured them all that her ankle was already feeling better, Strange had Steve carry her over and settle her in a chair with a stool under the table that could be used to keep her foot elevated while she ate with them.

While they ate, they discussed the plans for the next day. Tony was in no hurry to get everyone up bright and early to leave, and the short term rental allowed for the entire day before checking out so he checked with everyone and took a poll to see how many wanted to leave early, and who wanted to play in the snow until afternoon and then leave. It would make for some sleepiness come Tuesday, but everyone was in favor of one last chance to enjoy the snow and the solitude.

"We haven't even made snowmen, yet," Ned pointed out, looking out the window while buttering a roll. "Or an igloo."

"Plenty of snow for that," Bruce said, frowning at the same snowfall that Ned was looking at. "Do we have any weather report, Tony?" he asked. "And does it always snow like this here?"

Stark pulled out his phone. Normally, there wouldn't be much chance of a signal – it was the mountains and the middle of nowhere, after all – but this was Tony Stark, and a signal for him didn't come from a simple cell tower. Through Friday, he had a direct feed from any one of multiple satellites that his AI could connect to and interface with.

"Weather report says sunny skies," he reported. "Only the slight chance of snow."

"Well, that's promising," Steve said.

"Yeah. Except that was exactly what the weather report was for today – and for yesterday, as well."

"The mountains breed their own weather," Clint told them, sagely.

"What?"

"I saw it on a TV show, once," he admitted. "But it sounds good, am I right?"

Peter grinned.

"We're fine," Stark assured them. "If it snows like this all the time, then they're used to it and prepared for it. That's the point of bringing snowmobiles, after all."

They didn't all look convinced, but they all nodded and finished eating.

OOOOOOO

When dinner was done, Steve carried MJ back to the living room where she and Bruce borrowed Peter's new 3-D chess game and started playing, with Steve watching for a while, and then turning his attention to brushing his puppy's coat while sitting in front of the fire. Tony, Strange, Natasha and Pepper cleared the table and wiped it down, bringing dishes into the kitchen for Peter, who was washing them, and for Ned and Clint to put into manageable stacks. Then they started playing cards.

"You don't have to help," Peter told Clint, who was standing at the sink with him, handing him each dish, which he scraped and rinsed and then handed to Ned, who was loading the dishwasher. "We can do this by ourselves. Go play with the others."

Ned grinned, a plate in his hand, which he brandished with mock authority and pomp.

"Yes, son. Go play."

Barton smiled, and shook his head.

"A bet is a bet. Besides, with three people working on them, it won't take long."

"Okay."

"When we're done, maybe we can go outside? Play in the snow? Unless you've had enough of winter, by now…"

He'd enjoyed the sledding, and hadn't had as much time to play in the snow as the others. But now that he was there, he figured to make the most of what time he had. Ned and Peter both nodded their willingness, and the rest of the dishes that went into the dishwasher weren't quite as cleaned as the ones that had gone, previously.

OOOOOOO

"You're done, already?" Tony asked, looking up when the three walked out of the kitchen and turned the light off behind them.

"Yeah."

"That was quick," Natasha said, smiling as she watched Peter stand behind Tony, looking over his shoulder at his hand. "Do you guys want to play with us? We can switch to a different game…"

"We're going to go outside and play in the snow," Ned told her. "Thanks, though."

"Don't wander off," Tony told them, automatically.

"Where would we wander off to?" Clint asked. "The other snow-covered cabin miles away from here?"

Stark rolled his eyes.

"Just don't go anywhere – it's dark out and I don't want to have to come find you."

"We won't," Peter assured him, a hand on his shoulder.

"See if Bruce and MJ want to join you," Strange suggested. "She can test out her ankle – cautiously."

They went into the living room, but MJ had fallen asleep, curled up on the sofa with her foot sticking out at an awkward angle. Bruce had covered her with a throw blanket and was reading the handbook for the 3 D chess game and declined the invitation to join them outside. He was warm and wanted to stay that way. Steve declined, too, saying he was going to carry MJ up the stairs to her bed – once Pepper or Natasha was free to accompany him – and then he planned on making an early night of it, too.

They bundled up into their coats, gloves and hats, but didn't bother with the snow pants this time since they had no sledding plans. Hawkeye found the switch for the outside floodlights and they turned on the porch lights as well as thy walked out. The lights reflected on the falling snowflakes, giving the whole scene a somewhat otherworld appearance that Peter stopped to appreciate – and barely dodged the first snowball that Clint threw at him, saved only by those senses of his.

The snowball fight was epic.

Ned alternated between throwing at Peter and throwing at Barton – while he hid behind a snowdrift. Peter and Clint didn't bother to hide. Hawkeye could see the snowballs coming in plenty of time to dodge most of them offhand and Peter's senses always gave him plenty of notice.

It was a lot like sparring, really.

They both eventually ganged up on poor Ned, putting him into the snowbank and then whitewashing him while he shouted and laughed, trying to wriggle free of their grasp and at the same time grabbing for their legs to pull them down as well so he could retaliate. He managed to grab Clint, first, and Peter was more than willing to change his attack from Ned to Hawkeye. The archer suddenly found the back of his shirt stuffed with several handfuls of snow and he bit back an oath that Steve would have frowned at and tackled Peter into the bank as well, yelling for Ned to help him.

Which he did.

OOOOOOOO

"Do we rescue him?" Natasha asked, looking out the window at the melee in the snow.

"Which one?" Stark asked, turning from the window to watch as Pepper walked up the staircase with Steve following, carrying MJ easily in his arms.

The girl was out like a light, worn out from all the activity of the day. He figured Ned and Peter wouldn't be far behind, either.

Natasha watched as Peter jerked Clint off his feet and tossed him into the snowbank closest at hand.

"I was thinking about Peter," she said. "But now I'm, not so sure. He's holding his own fairly well."

"With his strength it's good for him to learn how to hold back to keep from hurting people," Strange said, also watching out the window, his arms wrapped around Romanoff from behind and his chin resting on her head. "It's good discipline."

"Agreed," Tony said – although he couldn't help the little stab of concern that he felt when Ned body slammed Peter into the bank next to Clint. "I think I'll go break it up, though. It's getting late."

Almost as if they had heard him, the three combatants all stopped at the same time and the watchers saw them all turn toward the front porch, the light making it easy to see their grins. Stark moved to meet them at the door, but Natasha held back, knowing quite well that she would pose a target to Clint as well as Peter -and perhaps even to Ned if he was feeling particularly playful.

She was warm and dry and intended to stay that way.

"Who won?" Tony asked, leaning against the doorway to the living room as they stripped out of the soaking wet outerwear.

"I think it was a push," Barton told him, running a hand through his hair, which was either wet from the snow, or just from the exertion of being so active. "Although I got Ned pretty good."

The boy agreed, grinning, but Tony spoke up before he could say anything.

"You guys go get changed into something warm, okay? I don't want you catching a chill."

With the addition of Clint and Bruce, Ned had moved his things into Peter's bedroom to give Clint his room and Bruce had taken the other. Peter's room had a trundle bed that Pepper had had Tony pull out and it had already been made up.

"We don't have to go to bed, though, right?" Ned asked.

"No. It's not a school night. Stay up as late as you want."

Sweet."

The boy headed for the stairs, followed by Clint, who was definitely ready to get dried off and into some warmer clothing. Tony noticed that Peter hadn't followed – and hadn't joined in the banter. The boy had stopped in the middle of pulling his coat off and was looking out the little window in the front door, his entire body suddenly tense.

"Peter?"

He turned.

"Sorry. Yeah?"

"What's up?" Tony asked, walking up behind him and looking out the window over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

The boy nodded, and then shrugged.

"I thought I felt something… off… but it might have just been Ned sneaking up on me, or something."

"Do you still feel it?" Natasha asked, having followed the conversation from her safe distance.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Something back home?" Strange asked him, always curious about how his senses worked, and how he interacted with them. Or even if there was a distance variable. Could the boy even feel if something was happening that far away? "In the city?"

Peter shook his head, feeling foolish.

"It's probably just my imagination – or playing around with Ned and Clint. I'm going to go change."

"Come back down when you're dry," Tony told him. "We'll make s'mores."

The boy nodded and pulled his jacket off and then walked in his stocking feet up the stairs and to his room.

"Are you sure you want to feed them that much sugar right before bed?" Stephen asked, moving with Natasha toward the sofa. Bruce had taken over one of the recliners and was dozing, the warm fire tossing enough eat at him to lull him to sleep. "You'll never get them to sleep."

Stark nodded.

"It's our last night here," he said. "I want to spend more time with him. Even if I have to lure him back down with marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate bars."

"You realize we didn't pack any of those items, right?" Strange asked.

"No?" he waggled his fingers, hopefully. "How about saving me the trip to the closest grocery store, then? It's a little dark and wintery out to go Ironman just for that."

The doctor rolled his eyes.

"And considering that the nearest grocery store is almost 80 miles away, I can understand why you wouldn't want to do that."

"Exactly."

"You're lazy, Tony. I've told you that, right?"

"You might have mentioned it."

He certainly wasn't going to deny it.