~Iron Family~

Don't Stop for Evil Ice Cream Trucks

Peter was about to knock on the door to the penthouse when it flew open.

"Happy birthday, Petey!" Morgan yelled, waving glowsticks in the air.

Streamers were hanging from the overhead light above the table and the living area ceiling fan. A chocolate chip cookie pizza was out of the box and sitting on a plate with rainbow sprinkles dumped on it, undoubtedly Morgan's handiwork. Happy was proudly standing by the table, puffing out his chest.

"Happy birthday, bud!" Tony called. "You wanna come eat?"

"You didn't have to do all this," Peter laughed, unable to hold back his grin.

"Course we did." Happy gave him a little slap on the back. "It's your birthday."

Peter sat down in the chair Morgan was indicating to and wiped his eye. "You're--you're Iron Man. You're Happy Hogan. You--you guys just--"

"Threw you a last-minute birthday party?" Tony chuckled, cracking a can of soda and taking a long sip from it. "Get used to it. I'm hoping to keep you around for awhile."

Peter sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve before taking a bite of the warm cheese pizza on his plate. He hadn't realized how hungry he'd been.

They ate dinner, laughed at Morgan's adorableness, and commented on the quality of the cookie pizza. At one point Peter opened his soda and got sprayed in the face, but he just laughed his head off. He felt warm inside as a sense of completeness washed over him.

He was having fun. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt happier at this small, four-person party than at Ned's house when he had invited their whole class.

They gave Morgan her slime gun and she completely flipped out. She loved it so much, she filled it with water to test it out and Happy ended up getting soggy pizza and a doused suit.

When the alarm on his phone buzzed all too soon at 7:45, he reluctantly got up to leave.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter said with a grin. "I had fun tonight."

"I certainly hope so!" Mr. Stark pointed a piece of cheese pizza at him. "Also, enough with the 'Mr. Stark' and the 'sir.' Just call me Tony!"

"Um...Okay." Peter nodded as he started out the door, knowing very well he would never stop calling the man anything else but Mr. Stark.

"Hey, next week, same time!"

"Yes, sir!"

"That's Tony to you, buster!"

***

The walk home was cold. Mr. Stark had asked if he'd needed a ride home, but he'd refused, wondering what Bernard would say if Peter pulled up in a suspicious black vehicle well after dinnertime.

He didn't want to think of what would happen. He had told the Wagners that he had a shift at Delmar's Deli-Grocery, so hopefully it wouldn't go too badly.

Peter's hand was glued in his pocket, fingering the hundred-dollar bill Mr. Stark had passed to him as easily as passing the salt.

"I--I can't accept this!" Peter had stammered.

"Sure you can," Mr. Stark had waved his hand lazily. "Take it in your hand, put it in your pocket, and bring it home. No questions asked."

"But--but I--"

"But-but-but--" Mr. Stark mocked him in a screeching, high-pitched voice with a smile. "No protests. Just take it, please. You've been a huge help, that gun will keep Morg entertained for hours this weekend."