The Robotocs
“That is the worst idea I have heard you say, and that is saying something.”
“I think it’s a great idea!” Peter replied to Tony as he leapt onto the island.
“What’s a great idea?” Clint said, walking into the kitchen.
“A cooking competition!” Peter said as he ignored Tony’s eye roll.
Clint snorted. “Why?”
“Pete’s been watching cooking shows again,” Tony said.
Natasha walked into the room. “Blame Bucky.”
“You’d think that after watching so many, he’d actually be able to cook,” Peter replied.
“Harsh, but true,” Bucky said, also walking into the room. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” Tony said, cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Tones.”
“What?”
“You can’t cook.”
“I know!” Tony agreed. “Another reason why we shouldn’t have a cooking competition!”
“And another reason why you,” Steve said as he breezed into the kitchen, “Shouldn’t be making breakfast.” Cap took away the salt from Tony and replaced it with a tub of sugar.
“Well, I think it’s a good idea,” Peter insisted.
Tony levelled a glare at Peter. “Steve is literally the only one here who can cook.”
“Wade can cook,” Clint said as he stole a strawberry that Tony had been cutting.
Clint squawked as Tony lifted the knife threateningly.
“Did someone just say I could cook?” Wade said as he entered the kitchen (via the vents, of
course.)
“Hey!” Clint cried indignantly. “Crawling through vents is my shtick!”
Wade ignored him.
“Wade,” Tony said smiling, though it was clearly forced (plus, he was clenching he teeth as he spoke). “Did you just break another one of my vents?”
“Yup,” Wade said, popping the ‘p’.
“Great,” Tony replied. “Gives me an excuse to do THIS!”
Tony leapt at Wade, drawing up the knife he was still holding.
Wade screamed.
Natasha leaned her elbow on the island next to Peter. “I’m having incredible Déjà vu right now. Anyone else?”
Bucky nodded as he took an apple out of the fridge.
Cap whisked the pancake mixture (after removing the eggshells Tony had left).
Wade ran out of the kitchen, and Tony followed, still waving the knife threateningly, wholly looking like he was about to throw the knife into Wade’s back.
“Don’t stab him too much, hon,” Steve called over his shoulder.
“What even is my life?” Peter said to no-one.
“What even is life?” Bucky said, sitting on one of the stalls, taking a bite of his apple and looking into the distance.
Everyone gawked at him.
“What?” he said looking over the group.
Clint groaned. “That was too deep for a Monday morning.”
Peter balked. “Monday?!?”
It was Peter’s turn to be gawked at.
“Yes?” Natasha replied.
“Shit, I thought it was Sunday!”
“You thought it was…” Cap trailed off as Peter lunged for his books that were strewn across the kitchen table.
“What time is it?” Peter asked frantically, but he was already running out the door, a muesli bar in his hand.
“Time is a construct,” he heard Bucky say.
“Shut up!” Natasha called at the same time Clint moaned “It’s too early to handle this deep shit.”
“Parker!” A voice shouted.
“Huh?” Peter said intelligently as he hid his web-fluid calculations.
Mr Harrigton looked at Peter over his glasses.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” Mr Harrington asked Peter, who looked over at Ned for help.
Ned just shrugged.
“Could you repeat that, sir?” Peter asked innocently.
Mr Harrington sighed and returned to the front of the class.
“Fine,” he said, addressing the class. “For those who may have missed what I said two minutes ago,” he glared at Peter. “This year we have invited your families to come to the robotics competition next week. They will stay at your stall and assist you, but will not be able to complete your projects for you.”
Mr Harrington turned back to the board and wrote down an equation, continuing on with the lesson.
Ned leaned over to Peter. “Duuuuuude,” He whispered.
“Huh?” Peter replied, confused.
“You gotta invite the Avengers.”
Peter glared at Ned.
“Dude,” he said blankly. “The gym will be in flames by the end of the night.”
“I know! It’ll be sick!”
Peter stared blankly at his best friend. “You can hear yourself, right?”
Ned nodded back vigorously.
“I guess…” Peter said.
Ned whooped loudly and stood up, his chair falling over behind him.
The class went silent.
“Leeds!” Mr Harrington shouted.
“Busted,” MJ said from Peter’s other side.
When the hell did she get there?
“Chimichangas.”
“Shawarma.”
“Chimichangas!”
“Shawarma!”
“CHIMICHANGAS!” Wade shouted as he threw a spoon.
“SHAWARMA!” Tony shouted back as he dodged behind the island and drew a butter knife.
“CHIMICHANGAS, MUTHAFUCKA!” Wade said, drawing a katana.
“SHAWARMA, ASSHOLE!” Tony said, bringing up a vicious-looking kitchen knife.
“CHIMICHANGAS, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SCRAP METAL!” Wade brought out a gun.
“SHAWARMA, YOU SMASHED PIECE OF BURNT TOAST!” Tony said, readying his repulsors.
“CHIMCHANGAS, YOU SOON TO BE BURNT STAIN ON THE FLOOR!” Wade screamed, drawing a rocket launcher (from who knows where.)
“Guys!” Peter said, dropping from the ceiling and landing on the island. The two males on either side of the island paused their insulting.
“You’re all wrong!” Peter continued. “I’m pretty sure, the best food, hands down, was Aunt May’s cherry pie.”
Wade and Tony straightened. “True,” they both said.
Cap entered the living room, waving a sheet of paper in his hand.
“Look what I found,” he sang.
“What?” Peter asked, flipping over the island to land on Cap’s shoulder.
“Your Aunt’s recipe for her famous Cherry Pie!”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “That was oddly coincidental.”
Cap grinned. “Yeah, I found it in the corridor. Tony dropped.”
Peter whipped his head around to Tony. The billionaire paled.
Wade’s gloved hand flew to cup his face in surprise.
Clint gasped as he entered the kitchen. “That’s why your pies have been better than normal!”
“They’re not better than the kid’s Aunt’s were,” Nat said as she too entered the living room.
“Yeah, you kind of butchered the recipe,” Bucky said, entering after Nat.
“I-But-Well,” Tony spluttered.
Peter took the recipe from Tony. “Let’s make dessert!” he called, turning the oven on.
“We haven’t even had dinner yet!” Tony said, although he was reaching into the cupboard for the flour.
“I’ll make chimichangas!” Wade said
“Shawarma!” Tony insisted.
“Chimichangas,” Peter said, moving over to Wade’s side.
“Fiiiiiinnneee,” Tony dragged out. “But only because I am a great person.”
“Sure,” Clint said.
“And so I feel better about crashing Pete’s robotics comp tomorrow.”
Natasha snorted. “You wouldn’t feel bad about crashing his robotics comp anyway.”
“True,” Tony shrugged.
Peter spluttered. “How do you know about that?”
“Nat,” Tony replied.
Peter sight ling-sufferingly. It was always Nat. Natasha smirked at him as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. She probably did.