Tony took an almost imperceptible step forward, his hand coming up automatically to Peter's chest and moving the boy half a step back, putting himself between the men and the boy. By then, all parties involved were over their surprise at the sudden encounter.

"Jesus, you scared us," one of the men said, giving Stark a smile that was obviously supposed to be sincere, and yet failed.

"Sorry," Tony replied. "We were just out for a walk."

The men were sizing him up, while Tony was doing the same to them, not willing to make a move until he was certain that they were only what they appeared to be.

They were both fairly large men. One sported a full beard, the other clean shaven. Both taller than he was, and clearly comfortable in the woods. The bearded one held his bow in his left hand, and wore a buck knife in a sheath on his belt. He had binoculars hung around his neck and a handgun in a holster on the other side. Against his hip was also a quiver of arrows.

The clean shaven man was a hair taller than his companion and dressed almost identically, although he held his bow in his right hand, which led Tony to believe that he was probably left handed.

"You and your son camping around here?" the clean shaven one asked.

Stark nodded before Peter could say anything.

"Yeah. With a couple of friends. We're leaving today."

"It's a good place for camping," the man said, seemingly pleased with the answer. "Peaceful like."

"For the most part," Tony agreed.

"Did you have a good time?"

This was directed at Peter, who looked at Stark and then nodded.

"Um, yeah."

"Lots to see out here," Beard said.

"Yeah." Peter's gaze went to the guns, and the bows – although he hadn't missed them from the moment they'd come out of the brush. "I thought hunting was off limits here…"

Stark gave a silent sigh, thinking that he was going to have to explain subtlety to the boy someday, but the men both smiled, their eyes following Peter's look.

"These are for self-defense," the clean shaven one said, holding up the bow in his hand. "There are some dangerous animals out here."

"Yes," Tony said, blandly. "We know."

The men both gave him a look, as if uncertain they were talking about the same thing.

"We work for the fish and wildlife department," Beard said. "We're out doing a survey of the deer herds around here. You know, to get an idea of where they are and how many there are in each."

"My son here saw a herd the other day," Tony told them. "He said there were several of them."

The men smiled.

"Good. We'll go looking for them."

"Then he was attacked by a bear with an arrow stuck in its side."

The smiles faded immediately. Both men tensed.

"Did you report it to the fish and game?" Beard asked, licking his lips as if they'd gone suddenly dry.

"Of course we did. Even gave them the arrow."

"You should be more careful, son," the clean shaven one said, looking at Peter, although his hand had suddenly come to rest on the butt of the holster on his belt. It was probably not intentional, but then again, it might have been. "People can get hurt out here…"

Tony scowled, feeling a surge of fury that he couldn't hide.

"Did you seriously just say that?"

As if he suddenly sensed that they were at a disadvantage – even though Stark was unarmed as near as they could tell and Peter was obviously too young to be considered a threat – the man held up a hand with another falsely sincere smile.

"I was just pointing out that these woods can be a dangerous place…"

"Is that what you were saying?" Stark asked, still angry. "Because it really sounded to me like you were threatening him."

"Not at all. Just a harmless warning for you both," Beard assured him.

"You know what I think?" Tony said. "I think your fish and wildlife buddies would probably like to discuss those bows with you."

"I think you should mind your own business, mister," the one with no beard said. "You can get into a lot of trouble, messing with federal agents."

"Is that what you are?"

"Yeah."

Tony activated his suit, his right hand taking hold of Peter's shirt and pulling him completely behind him, now, putting a layer of metal between the boy and the men, and his left coming up to point at the clean shaven man – even though they were close enough that he wouldn't have been able to miss both in one shot. Not with the weapon he was aiming at them.

Both men stared, shocked, and one bow dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

OOOOOOOOO

"So then I said, 'Dormammu, I've come to bargain', and he-"

Strange frowned when he heard the chime on his watch go off, and he looked down at it, surprised. Really, the only people who ever used the communications feature on his watch with him were already with him; Natasha, rarely, Tony, occasionally, and Peter, a bit more often than Tony. And usually then it was just to remind him he was coming over to the sanctum after school.

Natasha was watching him and he pressed the button.

"Peter?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

Obviously something had to be wrong. Natasha was alert, now, and listening as well.

"We ran into a pest problem," came the reply – only now it was from Stark, which made Stephen feel a little surge of relief. He'd been worried something must have happened to Tony, and that that was why Peter was getting a hold of him. "Use the GPS on your watch and come to my location, will you?"

"Of course."

He stood up, and so did Romanoff. A moment later, he triggered the spell he and Stark had integrated with the GPS in their communications devices and opened a portal. Neither of them were surprised that its terminus was the woods.

He went through first, the cloak now on his collar in its regular position, followed by Romanoff, who limped slightly. They found themselves in the woods, near Stark, who was in the Ironman suit – except for the helmet, now. He was standing with Peter just a step behind him, hand up and obviously guarding two men in camouflage, both on the ground, unconscious.

"What's this?" Stephen asked, frowning down at the men.

"Our poachers?" Natasha asked, noticing the bows immediately – and noticing that the ones in the quiver seemed to look a lot like the one Peter had found.

"Yeah."

She looked at Peter.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. Really, he didn't look scared at all, or upset.

"They passed out," Stark explained, still holding a weapon on them, in case they were playing dead – so to speak. "I'd rather not carry them back to the campsite to wait for the rangers."

"Did you call them already?" Strange asked.

"Right before Peter called you."

"Hold on."

A moment later all of them were at the campsite, next to the fire pit, but Stark still didn't relax. Not yet. Neither did Romanoff.

"Disarm them for me, will you Natasha?"

"Yes."

She picked up the bows, first, handing them to Peter, and then pulled both handguns and then the knives from the men. These she handed to Strange – who immediately sent them to the picnic table.

"How did you find them?" Stephen asked, curiously, as Natasha searched the men quickly, but thoroughly, looking for any hidden weapons. If anyone would find them, it was her, and when she pronounced them safe, Tony finally relaxed his vigil.

"They found us." Peter told her. "At the clearing."

Stark nodded, then turned to look at the boy.

"We might be a little late getting back. I'll have Pepper call your aunt to let her know we're keeping you tonight."