A/N: I have yet to see Iron Man 3, but from the gifs I've seen on tumblr, the way Tony interacts with that kid is sort of kind of exactly how I imagined him interacting with kid Peter.

Peter had never been close with Agent Phil Coulson. He'd known of the man, of course, and he'd met him a few times, like when Obadiah tried to kill his father (he'd offered Coulson Happy's job. Coulson respectfully declined the offer), or when his dad had nearly died from Palladium poisoning (that meeting had consisted of 'what the hell is going on with my dad?' and 'that's what I'd like to know'), and right before Loki's attack ('Peter' 'Agent Coulson'), but they weren't really friends by any definition of the word. In fact, he hadn't actually known that his name was Phil until the funeral.

It had kind of sucked that he hadn't gotten to know the man before he died. However, he'd accepted that, and moved on with his life.

So, when Peter walked into the kitchen on Monday morning, he was reasonably dumbfounded to find Coulson sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, reading a newspaper, and just generally being extremely not-at-all-dead.

"Good morning, Peter." The agent greeted, not looking up from his paper. The teen stared at him, his shock preventing him from doing anything more than gawk like a codfish.

Coulson sighed. "Your father is in his lab, I believe," he said as he glanced up briefly.

Peter nodded, turning and walking (well, shuffling) over to the elevator and getting in.

The agent sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned back to his newspaper. "Teenagers."

"... Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the ra-di-oooo! Don't you remember? We built this city, we built this city on rock and roooolll!"

Tony crooned along with the lyrics as he moved about his workstation, oblivious to everything around him as he danced to the beat. Music always seemed to help him work, and yes, it might have been a terrible song, but he'd loved it when it was first released (though admittedly fifteen-year-old him was a bit of an idiot), and he'd been feeling nostalgic.

"We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll! Built this city, we built this city on rock and-!"

"Dad?"

Tony jumped in surprise, turning to face Peter with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"... H... How long have you been standing there?"

Peter grinned evilly at him. "Starship? Really, Dad?"

Tony crossed his arms and huffed indignantly. "Oh, like you're one to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I seem to remember catching a certain thirteen-year-old grooving to the sound of Bon Jovi while doing the dishes."

Peter flushed at the embarrassing memory. "H-Hey, Bon Jovi rocks occasionally!"

The pair continued to glare at each other for at least another minute, at least until Tony remembered that having a staring contest with Peter was a futile effort (seriously, it was like the kid had some sort of perpetual staring superpower or something!), and thus decided to try and make his son laugh instead. While Peter continued to glower, Tony crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

The light brown eyes continued to bore into him.

Tony puffed out his cheeks a bit, moving his tongue from side to side.

A snicker and the barest trace of a stubborn grin, but the eyes still sent daggers his way. Time for drastic measures. Lolling his head back, Tony let his jaw go slack as he stuck out his arms, groaning in a manner similar to a zombie from an old b-movie. Peter snorted, which turned into a low chortle, which finally evolved into an uncontrollable bout of guffawing, shaking shoulders and sides included. His laughter was contagious, and soon enough Tony was giggling along with him.

"T-Truce?" Peter asked as he wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. Tony nodded as he leaned on the table for support, still laughing too hard to form actual words. Peter started to laugh along with him again, his sides starting to hurt from it all.

After a few more minutes of chuckling, the pair finally calmed down.

"So, what are you working on, anyway?"

Tony grinned as he always did whenever someone took interest in his work (a side effect of one Howard Stark's A+ parenting), walking over to his cluttered work station. "Just a couple new armors. This one," he said as he picked up a tiny pale-blue hexagon with a white star in the center, "is for Rhodey."

Peter looked down at the hexagon, then at his dad, a confused look on his face. "Dad, I hate to tell you this, but Rhodey isn't a smurf. That's not gonna fit him."

Tony grinned, putting the shape in his other hand and turning his arm over, placing the hexagon on it carefully. "Just watch," he said, pressing down on the star. To Peter's surprise, the shape lit up, whirring as it expanded into armor and covered Tony's entire arm in less than a minute.

"Whoa!"

"I know, right?! Expanding armor! Compact for travel, but easily activated in case some dipshit decides to try and take over the world! Already finished the one for me!"

Peter stared at the armor, amazed. "How did you even come up with this?!"

Tony grinned even wider as he tapped his head with his non-armored hand. "I've been remembering some old ideas." Tony pressed the star again, causing the armor to shrink back into a hexagon.

"So, why'd you come down here, anyway?" Tony asked as he put the shape back on the table. Peter's eyes widened as he remembered the reason he came to get his father in the first place. Frantically, he grabbed his dad's arm and started pulling him up the stairs and towards the elevator.

"Right! Come on, you have got to see this!"

"B-But... but the armor..." Tony whimpered, looking at his workstation wistfully.

"Later! Trust me, this is much more important than that!"

"But I wanna work on the thing!"

By the time the elevator ride was over, Peter was about ready to put himself in a coma.

Or his father in a coma. Really, he didn't care who ended up in a coma so long as the whining ceased.

"Why can't you tell me what is so damn important that you had to pull me away from the armor?!" He had to have asked at least twenty times during the five-minute elevator ride, the longest five minutes of Peter's life so far. When the doors finally pinged, signaling that they had reached their destination, the brunet nearly wept with joy. Grabbing his dad's arm once more, the teen dragged Tony into the kitchen.

"That. That is what is so damn important that I had to pull you away from the armor." Peter stated as he pointed at Coulson, who was still reading the same newspaper he had been reading when Peter left.

Coulson looked up. "Good morning, Mr. Stark. You're looking young today."

For once in his life, Tony had no witty comeback to offer. He simply gaped in shock at the agent for what felt like hours, only snapping out of his trance when Peter elbowed him in the side.

"C... Coulson?"

"That's my name, yes."

Tony gesticulated wildly, trying to keep from going into shock. "But- You were- and Loki, he... How are you here?!"

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Well, you see Mr. Stark, by allowing the Avengers, a SHIELD-based team, to live in your home, you also allowed SHIELD agents access to your home at any time, and as I am a SHIELD agent-"

"NOT THAT! I mean... You were dead the last time I saw you!"

"And the last time I saw you, your voice didn't constantly crack."

Peter snorted, then covered his mouth with his hand to hide his grin when his dad turned to glare at him. Tony turned to glare at Coulson instead, but then his grimace suddenly turned into a mischievous smirk. Wordlessly, Tony turned on his heel, walking over to the intercom.

"Attention, residents of Stark Tower, this is your benevolent and ruggedly handsome landlord speaking-"

"'Landlord'?" Coulson asked.

"'Ruggedly handsome'?" Peter inquired dryly.

Tony glowered at them both. "Shut up, I'm making an announcement here!" He hissed.

He cleared his throat as he turned back to the intercom. "Ahem. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'd like everyone who was affected by the apparent death of one Agent Phil Coulson to please come to the kitchen. He would like to offer his heartfelt apologies for causing you any emotional trauma." Tony ended the announcement with a cackle, an actual, honest-to-god cackle, the asshole, and pulled his finger off the button that activated the intercom. He grinned evilly again as he turned to the the agent, then burst out laughing at the agent's expression. For the first time since Tony had met the man, Phil Coulson looked mildly terrified.

"Stark," he began, his voice steady but his face still betraying his fear, "What have you-?"

He never finished his question, as a booming voice cut him off. "SON OF COUL!" Thor bellowed as he ran through the kitchen, nearly knocking Peter over as he rushed to crush Coulson in a joyful embrace.

"H-Hello... Thor..." The agent managed to choke out whilst having his internal organs crushed by a jubilant demigod. Steve, noticing the fact that Coulson was turning a disturbingly bright shade of blue, tapped Thor on the shoulder cautiously.

"Thor. Thor put him down, I think you might be suffocating him."

"Oh." The demigod dropped Coulson, who immediately bent over, gasping for air. "My apologies."

After a small bout of coughing, Coulson straightened, waving him off. "M'fine, don't... don't worry about it."

Thor beamed at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It is good to see you, my friend."

Coulson smiled back up at him weakly, then turned when Steve tapped him on his other shoulder.

"Do you still have your cards?"

Coulson looked at him quizzically. "What?"

Steve shuffled awkwardly. "Er, well, you asked me to sign those vintage Captain America cards when we first met, but... I kind of never got around to doing before... You know. And I was just thinking that I might... sign them for you now?"

The agent blinked, then his eyes widened as he realized what Steve was offering to do. "O-Oh, yeah, uh, that would... th-that would be great!" He replied shakily, looking like he was about to either burst into tears or jump up and down in glee.

"PHILLIP J. COULSON!"

The glee immediately faded, replaced with dread as Natasha stormed into the kitchen, somehow effortlessly pushing Thor aside (Steve had wisely backed away the second he heard her voice). Clint followed soon after.

"A-Agent Romanov! You're looking wonderful to-!"

She cut him off with a cold, hard slap. "Save it, Phil! What the FUCK were you THINKING, taking Loki on by yourself? You could've been KILLED! You almost WERE killed! In fact, up until about a minute ago, I thought you HAD been killed! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Coulson swallowed, gingerly rubbing his stinging cheek. "Uh... I'm sorry?" He offered weakly.

Natasha scowled furiously at him, looking like she was about to bite his head off. Then, to everyone's surprise, her expression morphed into one of extreme sorrow as the assassin threw her arms around Coulson. "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" She sobbed into his chest.

"U-Uhh..."

Tony walked over to where Clint was standing next to (well, more like leaning on) the counter. "Wow. I didn't know Natasha cared so much about Coulson."

"Well, she does... but then again, she spent the last twelve minutes crying over a chair we never use. She says that we're 'crushing its dreams' or some shit like that." The archer mumbled tiredly.

Tony whistled appreciatively. "You, my friend, are screwed."

"Yeah, I kinda got that..."

"Of course, if you hadn't been screwed, you wouldn't be in this situation in the first-!"

"Save it, Tony. I spent half the night getting rid of anything that could possibly interfere with the... you know."

Tony tilted his head in confusion. "No, I don't know. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, you know, the..." Clint looked around helplessly. He pointed first to Natasha, then gestured at his stomach. "The you-know-what?"

"Oh. Ohhhh! Wait, what exactly did you get rid of?"

"I found a list online. Let's see... I got rid of the eggs, all of the fish, all of the alcohol, the coffee-"

"Wait just one fucking minute. You got rid of the coffee?!"

Clint nodded.

"All of the coffee?!"

He nodded again. "You know, I kind of thought you'd be more upset about the alcohol-!"

Tony grabbed the archer by the front of his shirt. "WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE ALCOHOL?! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FUNCTION WITHOUT COFFEE FOR THE NINE WHOLE FUCKING MONTHS UNTIL YOUR SPAWN IS BORN?!"

"Ahem."

The pair turned, noticing for the first time that everyone was staring at them. Tony released his grip on Clint, laughing nervously.

"Heh, uh, did I say spawn? I meant... uh..."

"Save it, Stark; SHIELD is already aware of both Agent Romanov's pregnancy and of her... less than professional relationship with Agent Barton. In fact, SHIELD has been aware of the latter for its entire duration."

Clint sighed, standing up. "Okay, look, I know Nat and I are probably both fired, but-!"

"You're not fired."

Both Natasha and Clint stared at him incredulously. "Wait, what?" They said in unison.

"Director Fury has decided, and these are his exact words, that although you two might be reckless imbeciles, you are also two of the best fucking agents that SHIELD has ever had."

The entire room stared at him in shock.

Natasha and Clint were both thinking holy shit we get to keep our jobs.

The rest of them were thinking holy shit Coulson just dropped an f-bomb.

"No pun intended, of course." He stated stoically, earning a snicker from Tony.

Clint walked over to Natasha and put an arm around her waist, both still in shock from Coulson's announcement. "So, we're definitely NOT fired, right?"

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

The pair turned to each other, matching grins on their faces as they embraced.

"However!"

They stopped abruptly, looking back at Coulson.

"Director Fury has also ordered that Agent Romanov be put on paid administrative leave-"

"WHAT?!"

"- For the duration of her pregnancy." Coulson finished.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!I am not going on any sort of leave, and that is final!"

The agent sighed. "Director Fury has stated that your current condition is a liability to both the safety of the team and yourself, and-"

"My condition is a liability?! My fiancé is deaf in one ear, I don't see Fury putting HIM on administrative leave for it!"

"That's not what we're talking-!"

"Wait, Barton is deaf in one ear? Why didn't I know about-?"

"SHUT UP TONY!" The pair yelled simultaneously, causing Tony (and everyone else in the room) to take a startled step back, then attempt to make themselves as small as possible as the fighting got louder and angrier, each side screaming over the other in their quest to be heard, getting worse and worse until finally-

"-enough, would you just- NATASHA!"

Natasha was startled into silence. Coulson almost never used her first name, and when he did, it meant that he was dead serious.

"Look, you have a very physically demanding job, not mention dangerous. Fury is putting you on leave because of that. I know you know the risks, Natasha. But if you're planning on carrying this baby to term, then I suggest that you think about what you're risking if you don't take it easy."

Natasha glared at him for another minute, then looked away, clenching her fists. "You know what, Phil? Tell Fury that he doesn't need to worry about it. I quit."

With that, she walked away, ignoring Coulson's calls of 'Natasha!' and slamming the door to her and Clint's room behind her.

Clint rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I'll, uh... I'll go talk to her."

Once he was gone, Tony cleared his throat. "Well, that escalated quickly."

"Dad, no."

Tony chuckled, walking over to the couch and grabbing his jacket. "Well, if the SHIELD agent soap opera is done for now, I think I'll just-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! And just where do you think you're going, Mr. Stark?" Coulson demanded.

"Uh, Starbucks?"

Peter looked at his father quizzically. "What? But you don't even like Starbucks!"

"That is correct. However, I need coffee. And since Birdbrain went crazy and threw all of our coffee out, I am desperate for caffeine. Even crappy caffeine."

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that, Stark. Jarvis, lock the door."

Tony chuckled again as he headed towards the door. "Pfft. Jarvis doesn't listen to you!" He said as he opened the door.

Or rather, tried to open the door.

"What the... Jaaaarvis, why is the door locked?! Unlock it, now!"

"I regret to inform you that I am unable to comply with your request, sir."

"WHAT?! Why?!"

"Agent Coulson has overridden my security codes, I'm afraid. He has ordered me not to let you out under any circumstances until you have returned to normal."

Tony whirled around to glower at Coulson. "How in the FUCK did you-?!"

"Please. You think you're the only one capable of hacking a high-security computer?"

Tony spluttered. "I-I... You- GAH!"

Coulson smirked. "Director Fury had some orders for you as well, Mr. Stark. He says that you aren't allowed back out in public until you, and I quote, 'grow the fuck up'."

"But- But- WHY?!"

"If people see that Iron Man has been reduced to a teenager, it could cause panic. And since it's only been a little while since Loki attacked, the last thing we need is a scandal. Under the authority of SHIELD, you, Tony Stark, are hereby placed under house arrest until such time as you have returned to a normal state."

Tony gaped, then gesticulated angrily. "I- FUCK YOU! AND FUCK FURY!" He shouted, storming over to the elevator.

"Where are you going?"

"My workshop! Don't even THINK about bothering me!" Tony said furiously as he got onto the elevator.

For a moment after he left, the room was silent. Then Peter's watch beeped.

"SHIT! I'm late! Bye, guys! I'll see you when I get back!" Peter said hurriedly as he grabbed his backpack and ran out the door.

Another silence.

"Morning, guys." Bruce said sleepily as he walked into the kitchen. Upon seeing Coulson, he did a double take.

"Uh... guys? Did I miss something?"

Clint leaned on the door frame, staring at his wife-to-be's back. Natasha sat on the far side of the bed, curled up in the fetal position and stubbornly not looking at Clint.

"Natasha," Clint started gently.

"Save it, Clint." She muttered darkly.

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Yes I do. You're gonna tell me that I overreacted, that Fury and Coulson are just trying to help. You're gonna say that I shouldn't have quit, and that I should go ask for my job back."

Clint sighed, getting on the bed and placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's not what I was gonna say."

"Fine. What, then?"

Clint hesitated, trying to think of a way to put it gently. "... Tasha, do you want this baby?"

Natasha's eyes widened. "What? Why would you ask me that?" She asked as she turned to him.

He sighed again. "It's just that... you've told me time and time again that you didn't want kids."

"Yeah, so? I also told you that I didn't want to get married, and yet here we are!"

"Nat, you told me you didn't want kids because it would interfere with work."

Natasha bit her lip, looking at the floor. "Well... it would."

The pair was silent for a minute.

"... You know, you don't necessarily have to keep it."

Natasha looked up. "What, you mean like putting the kid up for adoption?"

Clint hesitated again, refusing to meet her eyes. "A-Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of not having the baby at all."

Oh.

"Clint, I... I don't know..."

"Hey, you don't have to decide right this minute! You should think about it, consider your options."

"Don't you want input? I mean, it's your kid too..."

Clint smiled sadly, kissing her forehead. "I know. But it's your body, not mine. In the end, you have to be the one who makes this decision."

Natasha didn't respond. Clint got off the bed, walking towards the door.

"I'll let you think about it. Just so you know, though, you have my love and support either way."

After Clint closed the door behind him, Natasha sighed, laying down on the bed.

In all honestly, she preferred staring down Loki to this.

Steve was worried about Tony.

The fact that he was worried at all wasn't anything new; Steve usually worried about everyone and everything, something that Bucky had teased him about mercilessly in their younger days.

No, it was the fact that he was worried about Tony Stark of all people that had him a bit confused.

Oh, there was definitely still tension between them from before New York. They both had said a lot of things to each other that they weren't proud of (though Steve had the sneaking suspicion that he was a lot less proud of what he said than Tony), and yes, maybe Steve had been expecting Tony to be... well, to be Howard, but now that they'd gotten to know each other in a situation that wasn't about saving the world, he'd felt like he and Tony could be better friends than he and Howard ever were.

Tony getting turned into a toddler was a bit... odd, but he felt that it hadn't put a damper on the growing friendship between them. After all, Tony apparently trusted him enough to ask to sleep in his bed after a nightmare (which, okay, was pretty adorable).

Then Tony had turned into a teen, and suddenly it was like he was trying to block Steve from his life completely.

That was what had Steve worried. Had he done something wrong? Had he inadvertently insulted Tony somehow?

Whatever he'd done, Steve hoped that he would be forgiven through a peace offering.

Specifically, a caffeinated peace offering.

"Tony?" Steve said tentatively as he knocked on the door with his free hand and balanced the cardboard tray in the other. He had no idea what an 'espresso' was (the coffee shop person had seemed rather annoyed when he asked), but hopefully Tony liked it.

Depending on if he ever opened the door, of course.

Steve frowned and knocked again. "Tony? Are you in there?"

Still no answer. "Jarvis? Could you open the door for me?"

"I'm afraid not, Master Rogers. Sir has specifically ordered me not to let anyone inside. If you'd like, I can give him a message for you?"

Steve sighed, then straightened as a new idea came to him. "No thanks, but could you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

The blonde grinned, putting the tray by the door. "Could you make sure nobody takes those? Thanks!"

As it turns out, the door to Tony's workshop, despite being made of reinforced steel, crumbled pretty easily under the pressure from a super soldier with an unbreakable shield. Steve had only had to ram it twice before the door flew off its hinges and slammed into the wall in front of it. Steve grinned, picking the coffee back up with his free hand and heading down the stairs to find...

A very empty workshop.

"Tony?" Steve asked in bewilderment, placing the coffee on a table and walking to the center of the of the lab.

"Toooonnny. Where are you?" Steve called, looking under the tables and in cabinets on the off chance that Tony was a contortionist and could fit in there.

"Huh. Where could he have gone...?" Steve wondered aloud as he scratched his head in confusion. He glanced briefly at one of the tables, then did a double take when he saw a yellow post-it note on it. Pursing his lips, Steve walked over to the table, picking up the note.

Went to get coffee. Later, bitches.

-TS

"What?" Suddenly, a light breeze blew through the lab, causing Steve to look over and notice the open window for the first time.

"How the hell didn't I notice that?"

"... some kind of monster, how bad do I want her? I don't sleep, at night, I terrorize, there's blackness in my eyes-"

The music suddenly cut, causing Tony to groan. "Jarvis, I know you don't like my music, but please, stop cutting it off or I will donate you to Harvard!"

"I advise against making promises you won't keep, sir. And in any case, this was not my do-"

Jarvis stopped suddenly, confusing Tony. "Jarvis?" He shouted over the static.

"Stark." A voice that made Tony grin evilly stated clearly.

"Well, hello, Supernanny! What can I do ya for?"

"How did you get out? I specifically instructed Jarvis-"

Tony scoffed. "Please. You don't think I know how to code in bypasses in case of incidents like this? By the way, how's about we stop hacking Jarvis? I think he's getting sick of this mistreatment."

He could almost hear Coulson roll his eyes. "Where are you?"

"Pfft, like I'd tell you that-"

"Tony. Peter's in trouble."

Tony's laughter died in his throat. "What? What happened, where is he-?"

"Just tell us where you are, and we'll get you to him-"

"Why can't you just tell me where he is-?"

"If Iron Man were to arrive on the scene, Peter would be in more trouble than he already is."

Tony swallowed hard, trying to keep from hyperventilating. "I'm in Italy, about thirty miles away from Lake Garda."

"Great. We'll meet you at the lake."

"We?"

"Agent Barton and Captain Rogers are here as well."

He could feel himself flush a bit when Coulson mentioned Steve, then mentally chided himself for being so silly. "A-Alright. I'll meet you there. Iron Man out."

True to his word, Tony landed barely five minutes after the quinjet, running to them the minute he landed.

"Where's Peter? Is he hurt? I swear to god Coulson, if my son has even one hair missing from his head I'm gonna punch somebody and it's gonna be Barton."

"Hey!" Clint protested.

"Shut up. Is Peter okay? Oh, god, please don't tell me that he's-!"

"TONY!" Coulson shouted, grabbing the frantic teen's shoulders to calm him. "Peter is fine. Nothing's happened to him."

Tony blinked, giving Coulson a blank look. "... What."

Steve rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Tony-"

"Hush, Steven, this is between me and Jerkass over here. Are you telling me," Tony said as he jabbed an armored finger into Coulson's chest, "that I hauled my ass thirty fuckin' miles, all the while panicking because I thought that I'd seen my son for the last time, just to get here, and for you to tell me that he was never in any danger?!"

"I didn't think you'd cooperate otherwise!"

"Damn right I wouldn't have come otherwise! God, I can't believe you! If I weren't so relieved that Peter is okay I swear I'd fly you up to seven thousand feet and drop you!" Tony's eyes narrowed. "He is okay, right? You're absolutely sure of that?"

"Yes, Tony. As far as I know, Peter is perfectly safe at home."

Meanwhile, in a sewer in Brooklyn...

In retrospect, trying to find the Lizard was not my brightest moment, Peter thought as he held his breath and tried not to gag on the sewer stench. The beast was right behind him, but thankfully didn't seem to know where he was.

At least he knew what happened to Dr. Conners.

Something rather slimy moved past Peter's leg, and he retched involuntarily. Behind him, the Lizard roared, and he started running through the sewers once again.

Back at the plot...

"Tony, I'm sorry we had to trick you, but I did make it very clear that you weren't to leave the tower under any circumstances."

Tony attempted to reply to that, but all that came out was angry gibberish and a few curse words.

Steve sighed and walked over to Tony, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Tony, look, I know that you don't like it, but Fury says that you can't leave the tower. It's just a few days more, you'll live."

Tony refused to look at him, mostly because he didn't want Steve to see the bright red blush on his face, but then he had an idea. An incredibly ballsy, totally-gonna-piss-Fury-off-but-worth-it kind of idea. He grinned wicked as he put his hand on Steve's outstretched arm.

"You know what, Cap? You're right. I shouldn't piss Fury off."

Steve smiled at him. "That's very mature of you, To-"

"But you know what?" Tony put just a little bit of pressure on his arm, then removed it. Before Steve could ask what he was doing, his entire right side had been outfitted in star-spangled armor. "To- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He screamed as the armor completely covered him and he blasted into the sky.

"I think that Fury needs to be pissed off every once in awhile." Tony turned to the shocked Clint and Coulson, still grinning. "Takin' Steve, BYE!" He shouted as he flew off after Steve.

"Quick, somebody stop him!" Clint shouted.

Nothing.

"Dammit, Coulson!"

"Barton, if you don't shut up I will use my taser on you."

Natasha groaned, putting her head down on the table. "Pepper, I really don't know what to do."

"And you think I do? I'm not the one who's pregnant here!"

The assassin narrowed her eyes. "Not helping, Potts." She sighed. "I don't know, I just... I want to have this baby, I do, but at the same time..."

Pepper sighed as well, sitting down. "Well, let's try this: I want you to imagine your life five years from now, with this kid and without this kid. Think about which future you like better, and there you'll have it."

Natasha took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. "Okay, imagining it..."

"Okay, now hold the arrow steady..."

Clint was kneeling down on one knee, holding a small wooden bow. A tiny girl, no more than four years old, held onto the same bow, trying to keep the arrow steady. She paused to brush away a few lock of curly red hair that had fallen from their place among the mass of curls on top of her head, then focused her bright blue eyes back on the target. "Okay, I gots it!"

"Wait wait wait, don't-!"

Too late. The girl loosed the arrow, and it went sailing over the target. In the distance, someone screamed; both Clint and the girl cringed at the shriek of pain.

"Sorry!" Clint called. He turned back to the girl, who was staring at the floor, dejected.

"Hey, now, what's the matter?" He said as he kneeled down to her height. She looked up, tears in her eyes.

"I did it wong again." She sniffed.

"Oh, honey, don't cry." Clint cooed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Baby, it's okay. You'll get it. Besides, you remember what your Uncle Tony said, right?"

"Weed Wichawds is a jewk-face?"

"... The other thing."

"You leawn mowe fwom failing than fwon winning." She said earnestly.

"Right. So instead of being sad about failing, what should you do?"

"... Leawn fwom them?"

"Exactly! Now, how's about we try again?"

The girl eyed the bow warily. "I dunno..."

"Oh, come on! It can't hurt, can it?"

She stared at him for another minute, then sighed. "Okaaaay," she said dramatically as she moved back into place.

"Great! Now, this time, instead of focusing on the target, I want you to focus on your actions. Focus on what you're doing with the arrow, not where you want it to go."

She did so, putting the arrow into place.

"Hold it steady... now pull it back..."

Her eyes narrowed as she followed his instructions.

"And... NOW!"

She let the arrow fly out from the bow, sending it straight into the center of the target.

"I did it!" She squealed happily, bouncing up and down. Clint wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her around in a circle.

"Great job, baby! Now let's go make sure that we didn't accidentally kill someone."

Natasha smiled, then opened her eyes. Upon seeing the look Pepper was giving her.

"What?"

"You're, uh..." Pepper gestured to her face. "You're kind of... crying, Tasha. Are... are you okay?"

Natasha lifted a finger to her face and found that it was indeed wet. "U-Uh, yeah, I'm," she swallowed, her voice sounding a bit choked. "I'm fine, I just... I know what I want now."

Pepper raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, really? Well, what did you decide?"

Natasha just smiled at her.

"WOOO-HOOOO!"

Tony chuckled, looking up at Steve. The super soldier had really gotten the hang of piloting the Star-and-Stripes (Rhodey had insisted on calling it the 'Iron Patriot' but that was lame so fuck that), having spent the past ten minutes racing through the clouds while Tony relaxed on the Italian cliff below. At first, Steve had... kind of freaked out, to be honest, though it was understandable; he hadn't been expecting to be whisked off his feet by a suit on auto pilot. Once he'd gotten the hang of it, though, he took off like a kid at Disney World.

Steve flew up to the cliff, snapping Tony out of his reverie. "Tony! C'mon, fly with me!"

The teen chuckled again. "No thanks, Capsicle. I think I'll just stay here."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment. Suddenly, he dropped down to the cliff, pressing one of the stars to make the armor fold up, at which point he put the resulting shape in his pocket and sat down next to Tony. The blonde grinned at him, making Tony's heart skip a beat.

"Beautiful view, huh?"

Tony spluttered and nearly passed out then and there before realizing that Steve meant the sunset. "O-Oh, uh, yeah, it's um... it's great." He finished lamely.

Okay, Stark, be cool. You're Tony fucking Stark! You go outside and people trip over themselves to get to be in your presence! It's just Steve; you can handle this! It doesn't matter that he's sweet, and brave, and smart, and possibly Apollo in human form OH GOD DAMMIT NO!

Tony made a small groaning noise in the back of his throat, pushing his face into his knees so that Steve couldn't see how red it was. Unfortunately for him, Steve noticed this behavior, his concern for Tony's sanity only growing. Tentatively, Steve placed a hand on Tony's back, causing the teen to jump.

"Ah! Y-Yes?!" Tony's eyes were wide and frantic, and his face was flushed dark crimson. Steve's brow creased, becoming even more worried.

"Tony, are you... are you feeling alright?"

Tony blinked and laughed nervously. "I- Fine! I'm perfectly fine, don't worry so much!"

"You don't seem fine."

Tony swallowed, refusing to meet Steve's eyes. "W-Well, I am! Why are you so w-worried anyway?"

"Well, we're friends, aren't we?"

Tony recoiled, looking at the other in shock. "Wh- Friends? Y... You think of me as... your friend?" This was honestly news to Tony. He had actually thought Steve thought he was a dick.

"Of course. Why, don't you think so?"

"Well, yeah, I guess but..." Tony's eyes narrowed as he thought of something. "Wait just a fucking minute."

Steve recoiled when Tony pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You're just pitying me 'cause you were buddies with my dad, aren't you?!"

"What?! No! No that's not it at all!"

Tony scoffed angrily. "Yeah, right! I know that you were looking for Howard when you met me, Cap! Well, I've got news for you, pal! I'm not Howard Stark!"

"I know that, Tony! And I don't pity you! I genuinely like you and consider you to be my friend!"

Tony halted, finding himself staring into Steve's eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes that pleaded with him to listen to what Steve was saying.

He wasn't lying.

Tony felt like his heart might burst right out of his chest, it was beating so fast. He tore his eyes away from Steve's, curling back up. "Fine, I believe you."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve breathe a sigh of relief. Stop being so fucking cute, dammit. Are you trying to kill me?!

For a minute, they were silent, simply enjoying the sunset.

Tony swallowed. "... Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Can... can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"... What was my dad like when you knew him?"

Steve didn't answer right away. Tony glanced over at him, then quickly looked away when he saw the (adorable) nostalgic smile on his face.

"He was definitely flashy, to say the least. Howard was probably the most eccentric person I'd ever met. Still is, actually."

"Thanks."

"I'm serious! Really, I think I'd like to have met your mother. Any woman who could put up with Howard's brand of weird has got to be something special."

"... She really was."

Steve paused, looking over at Tony. The melancholy expression he sported surprised Steve.

"... How long has it been since...?"

"It'll be twenty-two years this December." Tony mumbled. "I... I never got to say goodbye to them, you know. It's just... one day, they went out for a drive, and..." He hugged his knees closer. "... They never came back."

Tony knew that he was crying now, but honestly, he found that he couldn't care less. Even after all these years, after all that happened, he still missed them, missed them so much that it actually hurt sometimes.

He was so wrapped up in this fresh wave of grief that he didn't notice Steve's arms around him until the bigger man had been holding him for nearly a minute.

"Shh... I'm so sorry, Tony, I didn't realize..."

"I-It's fine..." Tony wiped his eyes. "Y-You know, with my dad, it's not so much that I never said goodbye... the last thing I ever said to him was that I hated him."

Steve's eyes widened and he loosened his grip on the teen. "What? Why?"

"... He was a genius, no denying that. Probably one of the most brilliant people ever to walk the Earth. But..." Tony shuffled a bit. "He was an absolutely shitty dad. I'm not sure he even knew I was there half the time." He laughed humorlessly. "'Hey Dad! Will you play ball with me?' 'Not now, Tony, I'm building a machine that will allow people to talk with fish!' 'Daddy, will you help me with my science homework?' 'Not now, Tony, I'm doing real science that could change the lives of millions of people living in sickness!' 'Daddy, do you love me?' 'Not'..." He swallowed hard. "'Not now, Tony. I'm busy.'"

Steve didn't say anything at first. "... You know what? Fuck that guy."

Tony's eyes widened. He turned to Steve in utter disbelief. "Did... did you just say 'fuck'?"

Steve grinned sheepishly. "Yep. Fuck Howard Stark. What a dick, right?"

Tony just stared at him, completely in shock. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the perfect golden boy, the poster boy of WWII, had just dropped two F-bombs and called someone a dick.

He really should not be as turned on by that as he was.

"Tony?"

Tony jumped, flushing even darker than before. "U-Uh, we... we- we should head back, right? I mean, it's getting late, and- and they'll be worried!" Tony scrambled to get to his feet, putting the red-and-gold hexagon onto his arm and pressing down on the circle to activate the armor.

"Oh, okay. But... Tony?"

Tony looked down from where he was levitating. "Y-Yeah?"

Steve gave him another sheepish grin. "I think you're a better man than Howard could ever hope to be."

Tony was suddenly very glad that Steve couldn't see his face.

"Sir, your body temperature has risen to dangerous levels."

"Jarvis! Shut it!"

"Hey."

Clint looked up. Natasha was leaning on the door frame, smiling at him.

"Hey."

The assassin walked over to him, taking a seat in his lap. "So, I was thinking about what we talked about earlier..."

Clint swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his wife-to-be was on his lap and wearing some very tiny shorts and wow had Natasha always had such long legs how had he never- FOCUS! "O-Oh, really?"

"Mm-hm. And..." She said, moving around so that she was straddling him.

"A-And...?"

She smirked, leaning to whisper in his ear. "And we should probably start thinking of baby names."

Clint blinked. Then a huge grin spread over his face. "A-Are you saying that-?"

Natasha nodded. "Let's have a baby. This baby."

Clint's grin got even wider. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." With that, she leaned in to kiss him, ready to show him just how much she loved him.

"Ahem."

The pair moved apart, looking at the door. Coulson shuffled awkwardly.

Clint grimaced. "Dammit, Coulson! Can't it wait?"

Coulson seemed determined not to look at them. "I'm afraid not. Miss Romanov? A word, please?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and started to get off of her fiancé.

"Whoa there!" Clint objected, pulling her back on top of him. "You can have her in a little while, I need her right now!"

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Agent Barton-"

Natasha held out her hand for him to stop. "I got it." She turned back to Clint, giving him a seductive smirk. "Clint, babe, let me go talk to Coulson now, and I promise I'll make it up to you."

Clint gave her a doubtful look. "What's in it for me?"

Natasha grinned wickedly, sliding up close to him and leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Well, I'll-"

[The following has been censored due to being deemed inappropriate for anyone under the age of Tony Stark, and possibly even too kinky for Tony Stark himself.]

Coulson took the gasps coming out of Barton as pretty good sign that he'd agree to anything Natasha asked of him.

"Fine. You have five minutes. No. More."

Natasha grinned, pecking him on the cheek and getting off of him. "Thank you, hon!"

Clint grunted in response, and Coulson pretended not to notice him crossing his legs and biting his lip as they left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Neither of them spoke for a minute. An awkward tension hung between them.

"I'm sorry," They said at the same time, causing them both to recoil.

"Wait, why are you sorry?" Coulson inquired. "I'm the one who was being rude."

"No, no, you were only trying to help! I was being stubborn! You were just following orders!"

Coulson looked a bit uncomfortable. "I could have been a bit kinder about it, admit it."

Natasha smiled a bit. "Phil, really, I get it. I know that you're just trying to help. Even if you were kind of a dick about it."

Coulson smiled back. "So, uh, listen... I haven't told Fury that you quit yet... You wouldn't happen to want your job back, would you?"

Natasha pretended to think about it, then sighed and shrugged her shoulders dramatically. "Oh, fine, if you insist. But! You have to agree to be the permanent unpaid babysitter for my kid."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "I thought that went without saying."

Natasha chuckled, Coulson grinning along with her.

"We're back! Oh, god, what stinks?"

"Oh come ON! I've already taken like, three showers today!"

Coulson and Natasha looked at each other.

"I believe you have a rather eager fiancé to get back to?"

"And I think you've got a teenager to lecture?"

Coulson nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Agent Romanov."

A/N: Okay, so let me just say that I'm really nervous about this one. I'm really, really, really afraid of chickifying Natasha, because she's too awesome to be turned into 60's Sue Richards, but I really don't think that it's at all safe for a pregnant woman to do the things she does in her job, but it's kind of a cliche for a woman to choose to leave her job to have a baby, and-

*tears hair out* SFHJER:HUJPIOREUAAIOUAPQROU

(That's the sound that my anxiety makes.)

Ugh, don't mind me, I'm just trying to balance being a feminist and writing a safe, healthy pregnancy where the one having the baby is one of the strongest female characters I've ever come upon. #writerproblems

Anyway! Ignore my insecurities! Remember to review~!