For whom?
Blearily, Pepper blinked. Then blinked again.
Sitting inside of her fridge- her fridge, mind you- was a child, maybe around the age of twelve to thirteen, with black hair, noble features, and clothes that looked like he just walked out of the middle ages. The child stared back at her.
Slowly, almost as if she was afraid that moving too fast would cause reality to fall apart at the seams, she closed the fridge. She didn’t want to know. She really, really did not want to know.
Alternatively,
Loki- born four centuries after he was supposed to be- tries to teleport into the loving arms of his older brother, and ends up in Iron-mans fridge. He will keep on insisting that everything is fine, thank you very much until the end of time, and perhaps even after.