Strange was the first one to wake the next morning. Not surprisingly since he was used to getting up early and wasn't even in his comfortable bed to try and talk himself into sleeping longer. He rolled away from the rock digging into his back and grumbled softly to himself to avoid waking the others before he slid out of the sleeping bag. There was light outside, so it wasn't too early, and he could see well enough to see that Peter was sound asleep, tucked against Tony's side and buried under the cloak. Stark, however, shifted when Strange stood up, stepped over them and started to unzip the tent.

"Everything okay?" he asked, looking up at Strange and then automatically checking the boy beside him. Peter was asleep, and not looking like he was going to wake up any time soon.

"Yes," Stephen said softly in that manner that everyone who is awake before the rest of the world seems to adopt. "It's early. Go back to sleep."

"'kay. Holler if you need me."

Since there wasn't any crisis, and he was somewhat warm, and moderately comfortable, he snuggled up against the cloak – which was radiating warmth for Peter and didn't mind sharing it with Stark – Tony did as he was told and went back to sleep.

Strange let himself out of the tent and zipped it back up before turning. And had to admit when he did that he was kind of glad to be up so early. There was a soft mist over the lake, and the sun rising behind him reflected into that mist, forming a billion prisms and miniature rainbows. There were also several deer at the edge of the lake, having a morning drink, completely oblivious to the presence of the sorcerer supreme that had just joined them.

He pulled out the so far unused camera Pepper had supplied and snapped a couple of photos before he cleared his throat to avoid startling them with his movement.

Seven heads popped up, big eyes and huge ears all pointed at him for just a moment, and then they were gone in a flash of white tails and the clatter of hooves on the small pebbles that lined the shore of the lake. Hoping that they weren't being followed and stalked by something a lot hungrier than they were, the doctor headed for the fire pit, figuring that a fire would be the best way to start the day.

And the only way he was going to make coffee since he was honor-bound not to just summon himself up a cup.

OOOOOO

By the time Peter and Tony both left the tent yawning and stretching, there was a roaring fire in the pit, and an old fashioned coffee pot sitting on the grill, percolating cheerfully.

"Tell me that's coffee," Tony said, walking over to the fire and rubbing his hip, which was probably bruised a million different colors thanks to the rock he'd slept on.

"It is. And it isn't too bad, if I do say so myself."

He'd never used a percolator before, but it was pretty self-explanatory when he'd seen it the evening before. He poured Tony a cup, using a towel on the handle and still managing to burn his fingers.

"Thanks."

Strange made them bacon and eggs for breakfast while they got themselves cleaned up and changed, and when they were done eating, and everything had been cleared, Tony asked if they were ready to try fishing.

Peter had jumped at the idea, and headed to the truck for all the gear; all three fishing poles and the huge tackle box that had been assembled by Clint for them. He'd taken his kids many times and had even tried to teach Peter how to cast a line.

Stephen wasn't quite as eager, but was willing to be included, and the three walked down to the water's edge.

"We could catch the little ones and use them as bait," Tony told them, looking at the tiny fish swimming at the shore.

"They're just babies," Peter objected, also looking down at them.

"But it's okay to try and catch mom and dad?" Strange asked, amused.

"Well… yeah. I guess."

Stark slapped Peter on the back, glad he was the way he was and hoping he'd never change.

"We've got nonliving bait," he assured the boy, opening up the tackle box and handing each of them a jar of a putty looking goo that was designed to stick on the hook.

Peter set up a bobber on his line, not sure if he could do the fishing off the bottom thing that Clint had explained to him. His cast left everything to be desired, when he ended up hooking Strange's sweatshirt on his back cast and kept tugging at the rod before he realized what he'd done.

"Sorry," he said, picking the hook out of the doctor's shirt and putting more bait on it, since the first glob had ended up near Stephen's ear.

"No problem."

Tony's cast almost pierced Strange's ear.

"Seriously?" Strange asked, rolling his eyes and putting his fingers to his bleeding ear. "Are you guys even aiming for the water?"

"You're okay," Stark said, checking how serious it was. "Ears bleed a lot."

Like the doctor needed Tony to tell him that?

He took his hook back, and rebaited it. Stephen stepped to the side, watching carefully as Peter's next cast caught a log that was on the lakeshore about fifteen feet to the right of the three of them.

"It's trickier than it looks," the boy said, jogging over to retrieve his hook once more.

"For someone who has such good aim with a web shooter, you'd think he'd be a little better at this," Strange mumbled to Tony.

"It just takes practice," Stark told him. "Give him a break; he's never done it before. I'll bet your first surgery didn't go off without a hitch."

"As a matter of fact, it was perfect," Stephen told him. "Just like all the rest of them were."

"Show us how it's done, doctor," Tony said, moving to the side and gesturing to the lake.

Peter came over and stood next to him, holding his fishing pole in one hand and the hook and line in the other.

Strange added goo to his hook and made a cast. His pole went out into the water, and the hook lodged into the belt loop on his jeans.

"Damn it."

"I'll get it," Peter offered, wading out into the water after the pole, which was about twenty feet away and floating beside a log.

"Be careful," Tony said, not liking the idea of the boy being in water that they didn't know how deep it was.

"It's fine," Peter assured him, and then walked off a drop off and vanished under the water for a moment – which was long enough to give Strange and Stark both a scare.

Strange was already moving his hand to get Peter out when the boy came up sputtering – and treading water – proving that his swim lessons with Clint had practical applications. The Cloak of Levitation swooped out to hover over him, extending a corner of fabric for him to grab hold of, but Peter waved it off with a quick motion.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, ready to jump in after him as well.

Peter nodded, but was concentrating on keeping himself afloat and didn't bother to answer. Instead, he swam out to Strange's pole – arms and legs flailing like always – grabbed it and headed back to the shore. He was soaked when he got out of the water, of course, but it didn't stop him from grinning, even though his teeth were chattering a little.

"We might need to move a little to one side," he told them. "I probably scared all the fish in this part away."

"Scared the hell out of me," Strange admitted.

"Me, too," Stark agreed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'll go change and be right back. You guys can start without me."

The cloak went to Strange rather than get damp hanging out with Peter, who wasn't surprised at all.

As he was passing the truck, however a green pickup drove up to stop beside him. It had an official logo of the park rangers sticker on the door, though, and the two men inside were both in uniform. He stopped as the older one – the one who was driving – greeted him with a wave.

"Good morning, son."

"Good morning," Peter replied, looking back and hoping that Strange was telling the cloak to act normal.

The two were already heading his way, and he was relieved to see that the cloak was hung over the doctor's shoulder, looking like a blanket.

"You'd be better off wearing a few less clothes if you're planning on taking another dunking in the water."

The boy grinned.

"I didn't know it dropped off."

"That spot gets everyone," the passenger in the truck said, just as Strange and Stark joined them, each taking a spot on either side of Peter.

The boy wondered if it were conscious, or if it was just a subliminal habit that they'd gotten into to protect him.

"Good morning," Tony said, offering up a smile.

"We saw the smoke," the driver said. "And figured we'd better come take a look."

"Ah."

"This is a permit only camping site," he advised them.

"We have a permit," Stark said. "Come and have a cup of coffee, if you'd like, and I'll get it."

"And your fishing licenses," the driver added.

"Sure." He turned to Peter. "Go get changed before you catch a cold."

Peter nodded, and went to the tent, and the rangers got out of their truck and headed for the picnic table with Strange, while Tony went to the truck.

"You from the city?" the passenger asked as Strange produced a couple of metal cups and poured the two coffee, once more burning his hand on the handle.

"Yes."

"Ever been up here before?"

"No. this is my first time."

It was obvious when talking to him that Strange was highly educated and not an outdoorsman.

"First time here?" the driver asked. "Or first time camping?"

"Both. I lost a bet," he explained.

"What do you do for a living?" the driver asked, curiously.

"I'm a surgeon."

Tony joined them, then, and handed over the permits they'd requested.

"Dr. Stephen Strange and- you're Tony Stark?"

Stark smiled, rocking on his heels.

"Guilty."

"Good enough." The ranger handed the papers back. "Where is your food?"

"In the tent, in coolers."

Both of the rangers shook their heads.

"You're going to want to keep it in the cab of your truck," the driver suggested. "Otherwise you're begging to have it eaten by something."

"Like a moose?" Strange asked, innocently.

"More like a bear."

"Are there bears around here?" Stark asked, surprised.

"A few – they're pretty shy, but they'll hit a cooler and take anything they can steal if the opportunity presents itself."

"Which brings up another point," the passenger said. "Have y'all heard any gunshots around here?"

Stark and Strange looked at each other and then shook their heads.

"No, but we only arrived yesterday afternoon. Why do you ask?"

"Poachers."

"Deer?" Strange asked, thinking of the herd he'd seen that morning by the lake.

"Or bear, or anything with a valuable pelt. It doesn't matter to some people what they kill, they just want to kill it."

"It's always a problem," the driver told them, finishing his coffee just as Peter joined them, wearing dry clothes – although his hair was still dripping wet. "You'll be fine, though. They usually shy away from any area where there are people. Don't want witnesses."

They headed for their truck, thanking the campers for the coffee.

"Remember what I said about the water, son," the driver told him getting back behind the wheel and starting the truck.

Peter nodded.

"Okay."

"What did he tell you about the water?" Stark asked, curiously.

"I'm wearing too many clothes to swim in."

"I could have told you that," Strange said. "And I'm not a park ranger."

"Come on," Tony said. "Let's try this fishing thing, again."

"After we put the coolers in the cab of the truck," Stephen reminded him.

"Why are we doing that?" Peter asked, curiously.

"To keep the bears from stealing them,' Stark said, matter-of-factly.

It was obvious that Peter couldn't tell if they were messing with him, or not, but he helped them carry the coolers to the truck before they went back to claim their fishing poles and bait.