“The lymph nodes in my armpit are really swollen, but that’s really it,” MJ sweeps her hair off her shoulders and quickly ties a loose braid. Peter sighs as he watches her over the screen; he misses her. He misses her and Ned and his city. Peter never really got to say goodbye before May shipped him off to the cabin over a year ago, and she’d actually started crying when he FaceTimed her from the back of Happy’s Audi.
“Yeah,” Peter leans in closer to the screen. “I just kind of felt icky the day after but nothing--”
“Lies.”
Peter rolls his eyes as Tony clunks across the hardwood behind him. He lets Peter use his office when MJ calls during the day; unfortunately it means he’ll let himself in whenever he needs something.
“Scooch,” Tony leans over his large mahogany desk and pulls open the drawer in front of Peter to pull out his massive checkbook. “Michelle, I’ll have you know he spent the entire next day in bed gnashing his teeth and whining how this was it and refusing to eat anything but chocolate milkshakes.”
“I did not! Em, he’s like, super exaggerating!”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, you managed to drag yourself to the couch for your third milkshake,” he ruffles Peter’s hair and winks at the screen. MJ plasters a completely flat affect on her face; everyone knows she’s not Tony’s biggest fan, and for some reason Tony gets an enormous kick out of it. “Congratulations on your second dose, Miss Jones. I’m glad you’re weathering it better than Peter did.”
“Go away.”
“I’m actually going, you two aren’t that interesting.” Tony folds the checkbook under his nano-tech arm, and reaches across Peter again to pluck an expensive looking pen from an expensive looking pen holder. “Grilled cod for dinner,” he squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “Michelle,” Tony tips his head at the screen. “A pleasure as always.”
“Bye!”
“I’m leaving,” Tony flicks the side of Peter’s head, then clunks towards the door with his fancy pen and checkbook.
“Ugh,” MJ gags once the office door shuts. “You sure you want to go through all this for him?”
“Em.”
“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “He saved the universe blah blah blah.” She pulls her leg up onto her chair. “And he got you out of New York, and gods know you wouldn’t have stopped doing anything and definitely would have caught it.”
“So you’ll go in and place the order? I tried to call but they said they won’t ship. And they’re not on American Amazon and who knows how long Canadian Amazon will take.”
“Yes, yes,” MJ nods and unravels her braid, then shifts her hair over her other shoulder and starts to rebraid it.
“Thank you,” Peter smiles at her. “I’ll Venmo you the cash.”
“You better. I can’t believe I’m going to Brooklyn to buy candy bars because they’re freaking Tony Stark’s favorite. Is he even allowed to eat Coffee Crisp?”
“No,” Peter laughs. “But he’s not supposed to eat the cupcakes I’m gonna make with Morgan. He’s not supposed to eat a lot of things he does.”
“Does Pepper know?”
“Yes,” Peter rolls his eyes. “She has this recipe, apparently it was something his old butler’s wife used to make. She keeps it in her office safe. And I mean, what else can you get Tony Stark for Father’s Day? We can only take so many pictures of ourselves. And Morgan had an idea to ask Pepper what his favorite cake was when he was a kid.”
“Oh he loves the pictures you take of yourselves,” MJ smirks. “So two dozen Coffee Crisp, shipped overnight FedEx perishable.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you’re going to freeze at least two of them for when I can come up there.”
“Of course!”
“Okay,” MJ smiles, for real, and Peter’s stomach flutters like it always does when she smiles at him. “I’ll go out tomorrow, and then straight to FedEx.”
“Thank you! I know it sounds stupid but--”
“I know, I know,” MJ leans her chin on her knee. “It’s actually kind of sweet. And you are still doing a picture, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Peter leans forward and waves his hand. “A whole collage, actually. But MoMo had the cake idea, and one time when we went to the store he was complaining about how there’s no decent candy up here so it doesn’t even matter that he’s not supposed to have anything, and then Mo thought--”
Michelle!
MJ turns as somewhere off screen her father calls for her. “Shit! Sorry babe, we’re supposed to go deliver some meals for the nurses at Dad’s hospital.”
Peter smiles; for all her hard exoskeleton, MJ is kind and selfless, and has been volunteering as safely as she could to help the past year. “S’okay. Go, say hi to your dad.”
“I’ll call you tonight?”
“Okay.”
“Bye, Peter. Miss you.”
“Miss you,” Peter sighs as MJ disappears from the screen. He leans back in the heavy leather chair. That’s one thing down.
**************
“I definitely think this one,” Morgan lifts a picture out of the pile on the porch. Peter’s keeping one ear trained on the house, listening for any indication that Tony could be approaching. He’s supposed to be napping but everyone knows he doesn’t actually nap during his prescribed naptimes. Pepper would play interference, but she and May are in the garden, and Happy has repeatedly told Peter they’re on their own with all their secrets.
“Yeah?” Peter leans over to look; it’s one from Tony’s birthday last week, Morgan had been nestled on his lap, and when Pepper called for a picture he’d tugged Peter down to perch awkwardly on his other knee. It’s ridiculous and silly and rather perfect. Morgan has a knack for picking pictures.
“Yesss,” Morgan reverently hands him the photograph. “Daddy laughed so hard after. I like that he doesn’t get sad on his birthdays and Christmas and stuff now.”
“Okay,” Peter adds the picture to the small pile. He learned early how astute Morgan was, and he’s never quite sure how to answer when she says things like that. “I think that’s all we have room for. Are you sure these are your favorites?”
“Yesss!” Morgan squeals. “Especially the one where we spilled the pancake batter!”
“We? I don’t remember a we, Miss Morgan Stark,” Peter laughs, picking up the pile and gently arranging them. “I remember a you, and your dad telling me an I told you so.”
“Exactly. We. I think my tooth is gonna fall out soon!”
“Yeah?” Peter looks up from the pile to watch Morgan wiggle her front tooth. Her brain moves as fast as her father’s.
“Last night it even bled a little! Daddy said if it’s not out by next week we can tie it to one of your spider robots to pull it out--”
Peter rolls his eyes, of course he did. “My uncle Ben did that with a doorknob when I was little.”
“--he just says we can’t tell Mommy.”
“Yeah, Ben didn’t tell Aunt May when he did it, either…” he pauses. The signature clunk clunk clunk of Tony’s cane is coming through the open window. “Shoot, your Dad’s coming MoMo! Hide these!”
Peter does most of the hiding, carefully shoving the piles of photographs under the cushion of the porch bench. “Shhh!” he admonishes, and Morgan gleefully claps both hands over her mouth just as the screen door slams open.
“I need one of you to take the blame for something I did,” Tony clunks onto the porch and over to them. He taps his cane a few times. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Peter turns to look up at him. Morgan giggles behind her hands. “Shhhh!” He gently kicks Morgan’s foot, which makes her giggle harder. He smiles innocently up at Tony.
“Hmmmm,” Tony narrows his eyes, trying not to smile. Peter knows Tony knows exactly what they’re doing, but he’ll keep it to himself and act surprised when the time comes for Morgan’s sake, and he knows any joy he expresses will be genuine. Plus the real surprise will be the Coffee Crisp and Jarvis’ old recipe. “Keep your secrets. Mo, you’re up. This one is more your speed than Pete’s.”
“Do I get money?”
“And what are you going to do with money, your highness?”
“Buy stuff.”
“Whaddya say I just buy you that summer dress for your doll you showed me?”
“Okay!” Morgan hops up, photographs forgotten. There’s nothing she loves more than being part of a scheme.
“What did you do?” Peter gets to his knees, guiding Morgan around him and over to her father. He’ll grab the pictures once everyone has cleared off the porch.
“Knocked over that vase in the hall.”
“The ugly one from that important British lady that everyone hates?” It’s a hideous vase, garish orange and blues in a truly abhorrent pattern. A dignitary gave it to Pepper after Tony’s “funeral,” and it was a lesson in graciousness for everyone present when she accepted it. Nobody who saw the vase liked the vase, but Pepper insisted they had to keep it. “Somehow I don’t think Pepper will be mad that you broke it.”
“Oh, she’d be mad if I broke it,” Tony takes Morgan’s hand. “But she’ll be delighted if Morgan breaks it.”
“Oh!” Morgan gasps, tugging on Tony’s hand. “I’m gonna be a hero!”
“Yes, the hero of the ugly vase. Stories will be told for generations!” he pokes Peter in the side as he climbs to his feet. “And you keep your mouth shut.”
“Oh, I don’t get a bribe for my silence?”
“No, you’re old enough that a gentleman’s agreement of honor will suffice. Besides, you still owe me for the garden shed.” Tony pokes him with the cane again. He’s got him there. “Come on, Miss Morgan. Let’s go clean up the vase that you so tragically knocked over. Pete, finish up and hide what you need to.”
******
“It’s just FedEx, I got it!”
“Slow down, baby!” May calls from the kitchen as Peter skids across the hardwood floor towards the front door. MJ said she’d sent the package without the need for a signature, but he doesn’t want it sitting out in the sun or risk someone else picking it up.
“I’m not going to open your mail, Pete,” Tony appears in the doorway to the kitchen, coffee cup in hand and one eyebrow raised. “Although I must say you aren’t acting suspicious at all.”
“It’s just something from ‘Em…” Peter holds the box to his chest. “Where’s Morgan?”
“Pep took her to the store,” Tony takes a sip of coffee. “Big list, apparently. Very important, absolutely could not be Instacarted.”
“Well, you know how particular Pepper is about her avocados, and I think I remember her saying something about tacos--”
“Relax, bud,” Tony chuckles, taking another sip of his coffee. “You know half the fun for me is trying to figure out what you two are up to.”
“Oh.”
“And what everyone else is in on…”
“Well, not Happy,” Peter’s shoulders unbunch. “He said he wanted no part of it.”
“Hmmm, he was my best shot,” Tony frowns. “And Mo won’t say anything, not when she’s successfully in cahoots with someone.” He sighs dramatically and lifts his mug to his mouth. “Well, I know it involves something shipped from the city and something Pepper and Morgan had to go buy and something you hid under the cushions on the bench. I think I know one, and the jist of the other, but--”
“Stop thinking about it,” Peter shifts from foot to foot. They both know he’s not great with secrets either, and he wants to get the box of candy bars upstairs and hidden before Tony tricks him into saying something.
“You know that’s not how it works, Spider-baby.” He taps his cane on the floor, looking pensive.
“Why don’t you try to figure out what Pepper’s getting you instead of torturing me like this?”
Tony waves his hand dismissively. “Because Pepper and I decided that once this mess is over, we’re going away and abandoning you monsters for a whole month to make up for all the holidays over the past year and a half. Every holiday added it gets more extravagant.”
“Huh?” Peter props the box on his hip. “You got her earrings on Mother’s Day, and she got you those cufflinks for--”
“Yes, to wear on our extravagant holiday getaway,” Tony nods as if the whole situation is entirely logical. “The point is figuring out what you two are doing is much more delightful.”
“Well, you might get the jist--” Peter makes a face-- “of it, but you won’t figure out the piece de resistance.” He moves the box to hold against his chest again. He can feel ice packs through all the packaging, and it’s nice in the summer heat. Pepper says the AC doesn’t come on until it hits 90 degrees.
“Well, I have a whole week to try,” Tony smiles blandly and drinks his coffee. “Go hide that then get back down here. Your aunt made waffles and they’re surprisingly edible.”
“I heard that, Tony Stark! And you’re not even supposed to be eating them!”
“They’re delicious May!” Tony turns and hobbles back to the kitchen.
Peter darts up the stairs and down the hall to his room, slamming the door behind himself. He tears the box open, and there’s a note on top of the styrofoam container.
Twenty five, the Wegmans cashier thought I was crazy. Remember, I want two. Miss you, nerd. ❤️ MJ
“You’re the best, ‘Em,” Peter whispers under his breath, opening the styrofoam to grab a single candy bar and shove it into his nightstand drawer. He closes the boxes and carries it to the very back of his closet. It’s not the best hiding spot, but for all his teasing, he knows Tony won’t actually dig through his stuff.
Part two down. Cahoots are exhausting.
*******
Peter stumbles into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Pepper is lifting Morgan to sit on a stool near the counter. He plunks the box of 24 Coffee Crisp bars on the counter.
“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” She sets an old, stained index card on top of his box. Ingredients are already piled on the counter.
“Won’t the smell wake him up?” Peter yawns again and leans over the counter to look at the recipe card. He rubs his eyes again; it looks like the recipe calls for a whole cup of mayonnaise?
“I want some coffee, Mommy!”
“No,” Pepper says flatly, but she smiles at her daughter, brushing a tangle out of her hair with her fingers. “When you and Peter are finished, you’re going straight back to bed until 8. Then you can get up and we can make breakfast for Daddy.”
“Pancakes!!” Morgan bounces on the stool and claps her hands. Peter doesn’t know how she has so much energy, even if May swears up and down he did when he was her age. “Pancakes and eggs and bacon!”
“Yes, all the things Daddy’s not allowed to eat, plus more for dinner.”
“Didn’t he insist on making dinner?” Peter frowns at the recipe. “Looks like we are gonna need coffee…” he looks at Pepper as she makes her way around the counter. “Are you sure this is his favorite? Coffee and mayonnaise?”
“Oh, I forgot about the coffee in this,” Pepper looks over his shoulder. “But yes, and I bet it’ll be yours too when you taste it. Oh, both you two…” her fingers make their way into his hair, pulling at a knot. “I think it’s time for another cut…”
“Is it gonna be too much coffee?”
“Noooo, you don’t taste the coffee, just brings out the chocolate taste.”
“How much butter is in this?!”
“Less than what’s in the frosting,” Pepper gives one last tug to his hair, then pats his shoulder and steps over to the coffee pot. “Which you’ll need to wait to do, because the cupcakes will need to cool or it’ll melt. I guarantee you about 3pm he’ll start fighting with Happy over the grill and you’ll both get plenty of time. When they’re done, put them in the cooler in my office. He hates going in there.”
“Daddy says that’s where all the work is!” Morgan chirps, reaching for the box of cocoa powder.
“I’m sure Daddy does say that,” Pepper clicks the coffee maker on and rolls her eyes. “Do you need me to help?”
“No, I think I got it.”
“Okay, then I’m going to go back to bed, try and make sure his Majesty doesn’t wander away,” Pepper pats Peter’s shoulders, then heads back around the counter to kiss the top of Morgan’s head. “Don’t you eat too many chocolate chips or candy bars, Miss Morgan. Or you, Peter.”
“We won’t,” Peter smiles at Morgan, who giggles behind her hands.
“Right. Good luck, darlings. Try to have everything cleaned up by six.”
Pepper pads quickly out of the kitchen, and takes the stairs as quietly as she can, including hopping over the 5th step that creaks on account of Tony’s damn ear.
“Okay, you ready Miss Morgan?” Peter looks at the recipe card again. “For a whole cup of mayonnaise?”
“Eeuw,” Morgan wrinkles her nose.
******
“Okay, let’s go,” Peter grabs Morgan’s hand and leads her out the door. The frosting didn’t take too long, and he’d relegated Morgan to smashing up the rest of the Coffee Crisp bars. The frosting called for an ungodly amount of butter, and he knows they’re all going to be sworn to silence when Cho does her monthly check up on Tony later in the week. Peter has a feeling even he’ll be miserable tomorrow.
“You know, I got this, Tony, you don’t need--”
“And where have you two been?” Tony looks over as they come down the porch steps. He and Happy are standing at the massive grill, each one of them brandishing a pair of tongs.
“MJ called, she wanted to say hi to MoMo.”
“Right,” Tony smirks. They’d already given him the photo collage at breakfast, and after the tears and tight hugs Tony had pulled Peter and whispered accusingly I know this isn’t it. But he’d left it at that with a squeeze of his shoulder and a quick poke at the obvious bags under Peter’s eyes. “Why don’t you help May set the table?” He points with his pair of tongs. “I’m starting dinner--”
“You aren’t starting anything, Tony,” Happy grunts and yanks the pair of tongs out of Tony’s hand. “Go sit down. We’re letting you drink.”
“You could let me help grill my own dinner,” Tony tries to grab the tongs back but Happy easily side steps him.
“And you could go spend time with your kids on Father’s Day. Go,” he points over to the table. “Or I’ll tell Pepper you actually broke the vase.”
“All sides. After everything,” Tony shakes his head, but turns and makes his way over to Peter and Morgan. “At least you two are being nice to me today.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s required by law, today.” Peter releases Morgan’s hand so she can skip over to her father.
“And yet you’re still keeping secrets from me.” Tony leans over and hoists Morgan onto his good hip. “Urrgh,” he lets out an overexaggerated grunt. “I think you had too much breakfast, Miss Ladybug. You won’t be able to eat your dinner.”
“What are we having for dinner?” Morgan wraps her arm around Tony’s neck and reaches behind herself to ensure Peter is following.
“Steak and potatoes and summer salad from your vegetable garden.”
“You know, Dr. Cho is going to take one look at you on Thursday and know what we let you eat.”
“I don’t care,” Tony states, and plops Morgan down on the bench at the table next to the lake. “This is only my second full Father’s Day and the first full one when I can walk up and down the stairs on my own. I deserve it.” He grabs a full glass of something bright red with ice and orange slices in it. “Just like I deserve this drink.”
“And to sit,” May is making her way around the table with plates. “There’s a whole pitcher of that in the fridge. Pep will bring it out when she finishes with the salad.”
“Made from my vegetables!”
“Yes, honey bunny,” May smiles and slides a glass of lemonade over to where Morgan is sitting. “You,” she looks up at Peter. “Can either have one now, or, one with dessert.”
“Um, dessert?”
“Oh?” Tony plunks down next to Morgan with a groan. “I get dessert too?” He pointedly looks at Peter, then down at Morgan, who can’t suppress her giggle.
“Drink your drink, Tony.”
*******
“Okay, this isn’t a critique kiddo, but next time we have to do caffeine earlier in the day,” Tony steps out onto the porch. He’s limping a bit more than usual, and Peter sees that he’s caring two glasses of amber liquid instead of using his cane. “She finally fell asleep.”
“Oh, it’s not that late,” Peter laughs a bit as Tony sits down next to him and hands over a glass. “It’s only 9:30.”
“It’s late considering you two were up at 4am to make my favorite childhood cupcakes--don’t gulp that--with my favorite adult candy.”
“You can thank MJ for those,” Peter takes a sip of his drink; it tastes like the expensive liquor Tony had broken out for New Year’s Eve.
“Yeah, you said,” Tony slings an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You were right, I’d never have guessed that.”
‘You little shits!’ Tony laughed as Peter and Morgan set the tray of cupcakes down on the table after they’d eaten their fill of steak. Immediately he turns and points at Morgan. ‘Don’t. Mommy’s right there.’
‘Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!’ Morgan just smiled sweetly, as if she’d not been planning to blurt out her favorite word.
‘Happy Father’s Day, Tony,’ Peter smiled.
Tony grabbed a cupcake for himself and Morgan, then slid the tray over to Pepper. “I haven’t had these in probably four years.”
“You said.”
“And my two wonderful kids remembered,” Tony sniffed. “Thanks, bud. Thanks, baby.” He leans over to press a kiss to Morgan’s head, then pulls Peter’s down to do the same.
Peter grabbed a cupcake from the tray and looked over at Pepper, who winked and took her own. ‘Just wait,’ she mouthed.
“I’d apologize for crying over cupcakes,” Tony takes a sip of his drink. “But I figure it's no worse than when you cried over, well, just about everything.”
“Hey!” Peter elbows him, then settles back against the bench. He takes another sip from his glass and fights the reflex to grimace. “You really liked them?”
“I really did. Jarvis and Ana used to make that cake every year for my birthday. And whenever--” Tony sniffs. “Yeah. I didn’t even realize Pepper still had the recipe.”
“She said she keeps it locked in her office safe. Morgan was the one who thought to ask what your favorite cake recipe was when you were a kid.”
“Of course she did. That kid loves a scheme. And of course that’s where Pepper keeps it,” he rolls his eyes and smiles. “We made it once together, and we were gonna have the baker use that recipe for the wedding cake…” Tony blinks hard, then shakes his head. “But that fell through.”
“Oh.” Peter frowns. Just like with Morgan, he’s never sure how to answer when Tony says things like that.
“Hey, none of that,” Tony squeezes his shoulder. “It was great, Pete. Thank you for always being so great.”
“You too, Tony,” Peter smiles. “For everything.”
Tony smiles and cups the back of his head, then lets his hand fall back down to the bench. “And I’m sure we need to save some of those cupcakes for Michelle?”
“Yes, two,” Peter leans his head back against Tony’s arm and reaches down to brush a bug off his leg. The night is hot, and humid, and all manner of bugs are out. Little bursts of light are starting to flicker over the lake. Peter has been trying since last summer to get Morgan to say fireflies--it just sounds so much better than lightning bugs--but Tony had quickly caught on and insisted on fighting him.
“They’ll be fine for a few weeks in the freezer. It’s a pretty forgiving recipe. All the mayonnaise.”
“Yeah, that’s weird.”
“It’s really not when you think about it. Cooking and baking are just chemistry, and what is mayo but eggs and oil?”
“No, it’s weird,” Peter laughs.
“Yeah, but it’s your new favorite cake recipe now, right?”
“Well, yeah, but more importantly, MJ can come up?”
“Of course she can come up,” Tony takes a sip from his glass and closes his eyes. He leans his head back on the bench. “She should be good, what, next Tuesday? And after she gets tested just like the rest of you did.” He peaks one eye open. “If she would deign to stay at my house, of course. Pep’s already emailed her father.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Peter exhales and smiles so wide his face hurts. It finally feels like the weights are starting to lift off his chest. “Thank you so much.”
“Just know I will hear you if you sneak to the guest room.”
“Ugh, Tony,” Peter frowns at him. “We made it so you can turn it off!”
“You know you keep saying that, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Jerk,” Peter snorts, but smiles to himself and leans his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Thank you. Can Ned come too, when he’s clear? He’s getting his second shot next week.”
“‘Course. But if there’s three of you, you’re all sleeping outside. You can take baths in the lake.”
“Deal.”
“And you know we’re keeping an eye on the numbers,” Tony sets his drink on the bench and his red and gold fingers reach over to squeeze his knee. “Not quite there yet, but,” he lifts his head off the back of the swing and nods to himself. “Bruce is watching. Strange too. He thinks 70, 75. Should be there by July…”
“We can go back to the city?” Peter sits up, and nearly sloshes his drink over the porch.
“Calm down,” Tony squeezes his knee again and picks up his drink. “We’re watching. But, Morgan’s about ready to start school, and it’s probably about time I join the real world again. So we’re watching!” He swallows the rest of his drink. “And we’re not arguing with whatever Bruce or Strange says. Capiche?”
“Yes, yes!” Peter throws back the rest of his drink, but he can’t stop the gag and cough as it burns down his throat. “Ugh. How do you do that?”
“Experience,” Tony laughs, slapping his back. “And you’re not getting another one.”
“Gross.”
“Yet you keep drinking them,” Tony ruffles his hair. “Why don’t you go to bed? You were up at four too…”
“I will, in a bit,” Peter sits back. “I want to watch the fireflies a little longer.”
“Lightning bugs.”
“Jerk,” Peter sets his glass empty glass on the bench. “Happy Father’s Day, Tony.”
“Thanks, bud.”