Tony deserves a drink. He definitely wants one. After all, he did everything he was supposed to do. Hold the speech that explained the science behind Stark Industries latest innovative weapon, wasnât too snarky (Ms. Potts will definitely be proud of him, for sure, he can already see her iconic eyeroll) and had been on his best behavior â until now. Now, he can have a drink â or five â, listen to a few of the speeches that actually interest him on this conference, and mingle with the other scientists, maybe finding a companion for the night.
He strolls down the empty halls, most of the other attendees still sitting in on other talks and demonstrations. The hotel bar wonât open for another hour, but the minibar in his room is well stocked (or maybe re-stocked), and he doesnât mind a quiet minute to organize his hectic thoughts. As long as itâs just a minute and not longer.
But the halls arenât as empty as he has assumed. A few feet in front to the elevator that would take him to his suite, stands a woman, rummaging through a briefcase with an infectious kind of panic. Next to her on a couch that is clearly just a decoration and not an actually invitation to sit down is something what looks like a baby car seat. For a second, he wonders if he can just sneak by, but then he hears her swearing quietly, followed by an immediate apology to the car seat, which is followed by more self-muttering that he didnât hear her, and Tony is kind of intrigued. Â
âDo you need some help?â he asks. The woman whirls around, and he smiles. âHi, uh-â He quickly checks the badge around her neck, âMary Parker. You seem to be in a bit of a pickle.â
âYeah, uh, hi,â she answers, blinking a few times. Tony isnât wearing the badge, but people always recognize him anyway. Mary shakes her head quickly, and reaches back into her briefcase. âI just-⊠Iâm supposed to hand in my thesis â well, not my thesis, itâs kinda a group effort, and my colleagues will kill me if I mess this up, but itâs not in here and I know I put in here-â
âOkay, okay,â Tony quickly says, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, hoping it will calm down her panic. It doesnât. If anything, her panic jumps over to him. âJust- Take a deep breath, okay? Itâs no good if you pass out from hyperventilating or something.â Mary simply ignores his suggestions and is all but short of dumping everything in her briefcase on the floor. âPlease, let me help. I can-â Tony is about to offer to help look, maybe make some calls, or throw some money at however is waiting for the thesis.
Mary Parker has other ideas. âCan you just watch him for a second?â She nods her head to the car seat. âHeâs asleep and Iâll be back in under five minutes, I promise.â
âI, uh-â Tony blinks, and looks from the woman to the baby that is indeed sleeping. Who brings a baby to a science convention in the first place? âDo mothers always ask strangers to look after their children?â
âWell, considering youâre Tony Stark and the media would absolutely love it if I tell them that you stole my baby, I think I have some leverage.â Just at the thought of that headline, Tony grimaces. Pepper would kill him. Actually, literally kill him, bury his body somewhere in his own backyard, and run the company herself. âPlease? I think I know where it is, and itâs way faster if I run upstairs and grab it, instead of explaining to you where it might be.â
Tonyâs eyes move from the frantic woman to the sleeping baby. âUh, well, I-â
Apparently, thatâs enough for a young mother to leave her helpless child in the care of a stranger. âThank you so much! I promise I wonât be long!â And then sheâs gone. For a second, the genius canât process what just happened, and stares at the now vacant spot, the smell of her perfume still lingering in the air. Â
âDoes your mother always leave you with strangers or am I just the lucky exception?â Tony asks the baby, still wondering how this could have happened. But speaking of the baby, he takes another look at it â no, him, a baby boy. Heâs still sleeping, dressed in a red and blue onesie with PETER embroidered on the chest. A single, dark curl rests on his forehead.
Hereâs the deal: Tony likes kids. Rhodey says itâs because heâs just a slightly taller kid himself, and the genius canât really disagree. Kids always laugh about his â child friendly, of course â jokes, theyâre easily excitable, they always look at his inventions with big eyes, and ask if it can fly or change color instead of how much it costs or if itâs going to be profitable. But babies? They have no personality yet, they just look at you with big eyes, drool, sleep, and try to put everything in their mouths that fits into their small hands.
Accepting his defeat â and realizing that a headline about Tony Stark abandoning a baby is just as bad as one about him stealing a baby â he flops down on the couch, and closes his eyes for a second. âPlease, do me a favor and wait for a diaper change until your Mommy is back, okay?â
To his surprise and horror, thereâs a reply. Not one with words, but soft, distressed noises. Tony instantly freezes, praying that his ears are just playing a trick on him. But they arenât. Instead, the noises are getting louder. A bit hesitant, the man leans forward to look inside the car seat again. Big, impossibly big eyes are staring back at him, the small face scrunched up in displeasure. There are no teeth in his mouth, and Tony tries to guess his age, but fails completely. Maybe a few months? A year? He has no clue.
The boy â Peter, Tony assumes, unless Mary Parker stole the onesie from some other baby â stares at him for a second, probably trying to figure out if his mother suddenly grew a beard and cut her hair. His eyes start to water up, and Tony decides to do something. âHey, kiddo. Mommy will be right back, okay? No need to panic.â
Peter isnât listening to him. His eyes move on from Tonyâs face to whatever else he sees from the hallway. His distressed noises are getting louder, and he starts to shakes his tiny fists a bit. Tony feels the panic rising up in his chest, and turns the car seat to face him. âHey, hey, itâs alright. No need to cry.â Peter keeps ignoring him, and a terrible feeling settles in Tonyâs stomach. âYou donât need a new diaper, right? Please tell me you donât need one. Like, I give you a million dollars if you just wait with that until your mom comes back.â Apparently, a million dollars isnât appealing enough for Peter, because heâs getting closer and closer to actually crying.
Begrudgingly, Tony leans forward, trying to sniff if the boy is in need of a new diaper. To his immense relief, thereâs only a clean, crisp smell, but before he can move away, something grabs his nose. It takes Tony a second to realize that itâs Peterâs tiny fist, holding his nose with a surprisingly strong hold, before Tony can slip out of it. Peter stares at him with wide eyes, his fist still raised. At least heâs stopped crying.
âYou know thatâs just a joke, right?â Tony explains. âYou donât actually have my nose now. Itâs just a silly trick adults made up to tease rascals like you. See? Itâs still right here.â He taps his nose twice and Peter gives him a short laugh, one that somehow lights up his entire face. Well, shit. If that isnât one of the cutest things Tony has ever seen.
But then, Peter pulls his non-existing eyebrows together, the smile slipping from his face, and he starts making a grabbing motion towards Tony. âWhat? You canât have my nose again.â Peter doesnât want his nose. Instead, he starts pulling at the strings of the car seat, his face the embodiment of discontent. âYou want out, huh? Have to say, canât really blame you. This doesnât look too comfy.â
Weirdly enough, Tony doesnât really think about it a lot before he unbuckles Peter and picks him up â then he starts to think. Is he supposed to support his head? Thatâs a thing with babies, right? When do you have to stop supporting the head? And is Peter already at this age? Apparently, he is, because after a quick, surprised expression, like he canât believe he actually got out the seat, Peter gives an excited squeal, and Tony settles him on his knee, making sure to hold his tiny body with both hands. âThatâs better, isnât it?â
The boy laughs again and makes the grabbing motions at Tony, who in turn starts to bounce his leg a bit, getting another squeal. Tony canât help but smile at that. Somehow, even though he will never admit it, he feels connected to this child. Which is a really weird thing to say about a strange baby and will probably get him in a lot of trouble, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Peter, on the other hand, isnât on board with that. He gets bored of the bouncing and starts to lean forward, continuing to trying to grab Tonyâs face, and eventually starting to fuss. âWhatâs up, buddy? You donât like the bouncing anymore?â Once he starts to speak, Peter stops the fuss, only to continue once Tony is silence for longer than two seconds. The billionaire blinks at the child. âWhat? You like it when I talk?â As if he actually understands his words, Peter squeals again, almost clapping his hands together.
A warm feeling blooms in Tonyâs chest. If Peterâs mother doesnât turn up soon, he might actually kidnap this child. âI think youâre actually the first person ever who doesnât tell me to shut up.â Peter keeps on smiling, two fingers inside his mouth now, which should be gross, but is strangely adorable. âAlright. I can keep talking. No problem, I do it all the time. What do you want to hear about?â
Peter makes a gargling sound which is probably his version of an answer. Or maybe his fingers are just in the way of his words. However, Tony halts to think about it. What can he tell the kid? He could recite his speech again, but he isnât so sure if his mother would appreciate him telling her son about a weapon.
What about a song? Kids love those, and Tony is pretty sure Peter wouldnât mind his crappy singing voice. Which brings him to his next problem. Tony doesnât know any songs for kids. But Peter is getting impatient by his silence, Tony can see it in the way he wrinkles his nose. Well, time to improvise. To a melody that roughly matches Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Tony starts to softly sing: âHydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium ââ
The elements donât match up to the melody at all, but Peter doesnât seem like he cares. Quite the opposite, actually. By the time Tony reaches Oganesson, the baby boy is actually clapping along â in a very bad rhythm, which is pretty appropriated.
âYou liked that?â Tony asks, not even noticing the smile that is basically engraved into his face by this point. Peter squeals again, leaning forward and falling against Tonyâs torso. At some point â Tony thinks it was when he sang about molybdenum â heâd pulled the boy closer to his body, almost unconsciously. The warm weight against him pulls at his heartstrings.
âYâknow what, buddy? How about you come work for me? I could definitely need someone who likes hearing me talk.â Peter just looks at him with his big eyes and the toothless grin. âYouâre a bit young to start working, though. Could be trouble with the legal department. Well, weâll just call it an internship. No problem then.â The fingers are back in Peterâs mouth now, and drool drops on Tonyâs shirt. Weirdly enough, Tony isnât grossed out about it. Okay, maybe a little bit, but not as much as he thought he would.
âMaybe we should wait until you can walk on your own, though, what do you think?â Peter gargles, more drool dripping on him. âYeah, youâre right, no need for that. I have some robots, Iâll just build you a little carriage, and they can pull you around.â
The boy starts to laugh, but then the doors from the elevators open with a soft ringing noise, drawing their attention to them. The second a little less frantic looking Mary Parker steps out of them, Peter starts squealing in delight, trying to get to his mother, and Tony needs to actually readjust his grip so the baby doesnât faceplants on the floor.
âHi Petey, did you wake up?â Mary asks as she lifts Peter out of Tonyâs hands. Immediately, Tony notices the loss of the comforting weight and warmth, but he doesnât say anything. Kidnapping babies is bad. Pepper wouldnât like it. And itâs not his baby. Just because Peter likes listening to his voice and his bad song about elements, doesnât mean he has any claim to him. The boy will most likely forget him by the time he takes another nap.
(Tony pushes the stinging pain that comes with the thought out of his mind.)
âWere you a good boy for Mr. Stark?â Mary continues to asks and drops a kiss on Peterâs head.
âHe was no problem,â Tony answers, because Peter is preoccupied with looking at his mom and pointing to her hair. âThe second you left, he woke up and we got to chat for a bit.â
âI really canât thank you enough,â she says sincerely.
âIt wasnât any trouble at all.â Because it really wasnât, which Tony wouldnât have thought possible fifteen minutes ago. Somehow, it makes him a little sadder than he likes to admit. He sniffs once and moves to the elevator, an obvious hint that heâs going to leave. âHeâs a sweet boy. And, yâknow, if youâre ever in Malibu and need a babysitter, ring me up. Iâm not quite sure if Iâm in the address book, but someone is always at the Stark Industries Headquarters.â
Mary laughs. âThanks, Iâll think about it.â She looks to Peter, who has been very interested in the collar of her blazer for the last minute. âPetey, do you want to say goodbye to the nice man?â
Peter looks to his mom and then at Tony, making him wonder if he actually understands words already or if itâs just his intuition. A smile spreads across his little face, and he starts smacking his lips in a weird way, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to Tony. Almost instinctively, Tony moves back to him, holding a hand out as if to catch him, but Peter just grabs his finger with a strong grip. âWhat are you doing, kiddo?â he asks quietly as Peter continues to smack his lips, absolutely delighted with himself.
âHeâs trying to give you kisses,â Mary explains, a soft smile on his face. âIsnât that right, Petey? Didnât Aunty May teach you how to give kisses?â At the name of his aunt, Peter squeals again, looking around the hall as if she might pop up from behind one of the potted plants.
For a second, Tony hesitated. This is a strangerâs baby. He has spent a total of seven minutes with him. And yet he canât help himself. Tony leans forward, presenting his cheek to the baby, and not a second later, he feels a very, very sloppy and wet kiss â if you can even call it a kiss â against his skin. âWell, you should tell your Aunty May that you need more teaching. There should be a lot less drool.â Peter simply laughs, letting go of his hand in order to get a hold of his mother again.
Before Tony can do something stupid that Pepper would definitely scold him for, he steps into the elevator. âOh, I kinda offered him an internship at SI, so if his first words are Stark Industries, donât be too disappointed.â
âThanks for the heads up,â Mary chuckles. âCâmon, Peter, say bye Mr. Stark!â Peter doesnât say bye Mr. Stark, but when his mother starts to wave her hand, he kind of imitates the motion, smiling brightly like heâs having the time of his life. Tony waves back as the doors close right in front of him.
Pepper thinks heâs crazy when he tells her to put out a notice to immediately accept a Peter Parker, should he ever apply to SI. After all, he did promise him a position. But to be honest, Tony doesnât really think it would ever happen, and over the years, he kind of forgets about it.
Until one and half decades later, he sees a video of a boy in a red and blue onesie catch a bus with his bare hands.
(please donât leave your kids with strangers)