Dinner was a satisfying beef stew whipped up by Natasha and Peter, allowing Stark the chance to relax after his afternoon of bear wrangling. Strange woke up feeling fairly well rested and hardly limping on the injured ankle, proving the rest had done it as much good as it had done him. He hobbled a little, but didn't need help getting around any longer. He and Tony played chess while waiting for them to make dinner, and were hungry enough to look for seconds when Peter and Natasha served it up.

The clouds that had blocked out the sun earlier were now threatening to drop some rain on them, but while the air was heavy with the threat, there weren't any raindrops, yet, so after thy were done eating, Strange stoked up the fire and the adults left the dishes to Peter – who said he didn't mind doing them alone – and relaxed around the fire.

Tony gave them a more descriptive account of how he'd collected the bear cubs and left them close enough to their mother that she found them, but not so close that she had any idea that there had been any help on his part. Peter took a bit to finish doing the dishes – with no assistance from the cloak that was trying to help but kept pushing things off the table, or dropping them. He was close enough to hear the story, though, and didn't feel left out – and really, doing camping dishes wasn't quite the scullery that doing the dishes at home was.

It was still new enough to be an adventure.

"How do you feel?" Strange asked the boy when he finished and went to join them, carrying a roasting skewer, the bag of marshmallows and a paper plate with chocolate and graham crackers stacked on it.

"I'm okay."

"Sore?"

"Just a little."

"Are you saying that to keep us from worrying," Tony asked. "Or are you really okay?"

"No. It hardly hurts at all. My head hurts more than anything."

"Considering the dent you put in the truck, that isn't too surprising," Stephen said, giving the boy a slight smile.

Natasha had never had a s'more – not that surprising, really – and Peter made her one, which she proclaimed delicious and at the same time just a little too sweet for her tastes. He explained that May had taught him how to make them just using the flame from the kitchen stove to roast the marshmallow. The ones charred over the campfire were even better, as far as he was concerned.

"This place is pretty nice, Tony," Natasha said, looking at the lake which was now only reflecting the fire, since there weren't any stars out. "How did you find it?"

"I know a guy, who knows a guy. He mentioned it, so I did a little research and figured it would be more of an adventure than one of the places that rent out cabins."

"It's definitely that," Strange said as a fat raindrop landed on his head.

Several more followed, causing the fire to sputter and the group to hastily gather up their blankets, the cards and the chess set, which were shoved into the tent and all the cooking supplies which went into the cab of the truck. By the time they ducked into the tent, zipping the newly repaired door behind them, the rain was coming down hard and thunder could be heard in the distance.

Stark turned on one battery powered lantern and Natasha another, hanging it from a hook above them. They sat on their sleeping bags, with the cloak draped over Peter's shoulder, and played cards, listening to the storm outside and covering up with their extra blankets even though they weren't too chilly in the tent with the four of them providing body heat and the cloak generating some warmth of its own.

"This rain will not make fishing very fun tomorrow," Strange pointed out.

He'd actually had a good time fishing and with his ankle better had planned to give it another go. Standing in a rainstorm was not his idea of a fun time, though – not to catch a fish he had no intention of keeping, anyway.

"The fish bite more when it's raining," Tony told them.

"Who told you that?"

"Everyone knows it."

"I've never heard of it. Natasha?"

"Nope."

"Peter?"

The boy hesitated, looking like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

"Um… I might have read it somewhere…"

Strange rolled his eyes and Stark beamed, reaching over and patting Peter's shoulder.

"I'm going to bed," Stephen said, tossing his cards into the middle of the pile.

"Me, too," Romanoff agreed gathering up the cards.

Of course, she hadn't had a nap during the afternoon, and didn't have a million marshmallows running through her system to keep her awake, either.

Her sleeping bag had been put between Stephen and Peter where she'd have the advantage of someone warm on either side of her. She really wouldn't have cared, but with the rain she didn't mind the idea of being warm and having someone to cuddle up against.

All three adults looked over when Peter stood up, though.

"Where are you going?" Tony asked.

"Bathroom."

An umbrella appeared, leaning against the entrance of the tent, but Stark stood up as well.

"I'll go with you."

"I'm not going to get lost."

"I'm not worried about you getting lost," Tony said. "There's probably a moose out there, waiting for a chance to get you alone and try to take you out."

Natasha snickered, and Peter threw her a look that only made her giggle. His baby face was not capable of any sort of rebuke or reproach, really, and it was amusing to see him try it. Peter rolled his eyes, cheerfully, just pleased to make her smile, and he and Stark left the tent, sharing the umbrella – which no one had actually packed.

"Are you going to fish tomorrow?" Natasha asked, turning off the overhead lantern before climbing into her sleeping bag and cuddling up to Strange, more than willing to steal some warmth from him and the cloak – which had shown no inclination to go out into the rain with Peter. Affection only went so far when it came to getting wet, obviously.

He rolled onto his side to face her, resting his weight on one elbow, the light of the single lantern casting all kinds of odd shadows from behind her.

"I might. Don't tell Tony, but it was exciting, really, to feel that there was something on the other end of the line trying to get away."

She smiled at that.

"Show me how?"

"I'm not sure that catching two fish makes me an expert, but yes, if you want to stand in the rain with me and risk catching a cold, then I'll show you how."

She reached up and pulled his head down to steal a kiss.

"I know a pretty good doctor who could nurse me back to health," she pointed out.

It was his turn to smile and he deepened the kiss for just a moment.

"Unless I get sick, too, of course," he told her. "And I'll warn you now, I am a terrible patient."

"I'll risk it."