IronDad/SpiderSon One-shots

shishkabobs

Third Person POV
Word Count: 1,343
Spooktober Day Fifteen: Skewer

It was the middle of October and forty-two degrees outside. Most people were curled inside with a warm blanket and a spooky movie on. Or, they were just inside in general.

Not Tony Stark, though. No. He was outside in cloudy, chilly weather grilling for Peter Parker. Why, you might ask? Well...

"What do you want to eat this weekend," Tony asked as the two drove from the city and out toward the lake house. Tony had just picked Tony up from school and Peter was coming out to his house for the weekend. It was a long weekend for Peter, teachers having to do some sort of training on Monday that got the kids out of school. They were taking the opportunity to spend some time together. "We can stop at the store along the way to get some things."

Peter, who'd had a long day at school, just shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."

Glancing at him from the corner of his eye, Tony made sure that the kid was alright. "We can always decide when we get to the store. Sound good?" When Peter nodded, so did Tony. "Cool. Now, I know you've had a long day, so we can either talk about it or sing AC/DC really off key until we get to the store, then talk about it," Tony said.

A few seconds later, Peter reached over and turned on the radio. "Talk later," he said before cranking the music up, starting to hum away.

Twenty minutes later, Tony and Peter were pulling up to the store. They had turned the music down about halfway there and Peter explained how he hadn't done as well on a test as he would have liked to and it was throwing him. "I studied for it and everything. Like, not just half-ass studied either. I gave it my everything and I still only got 70%," Peter explained.

"That's not too bad of a grade," Tony tried to explain, pulling the keys from the ignition and stepping out of the car. When he looked over the roof and saw the face Peter had on his face, he winced. "Is it?"

"That's barely passing. I mean, barely. If I would have scored one percent lower, I would have failed the test." Peter started walking side by side with Tony.

Shaking his head. "Okay, well. We all have our moments, kid. You can't ace every test," Tony said, trying to be encouraging. "We can go over the material and see what you're missing out on, if you'd think it'd help. I don't mind helping out with some homework." Tony grabbed a cart when they walked in and paused. "Well, let me specify that. I don't mind helping out with some homework as long as it doesn't involve reading. Morgan's teacher makes her read every day after class and I don't think I can hear the story of Little Miss Muffett."

That made Peter laugh, which is exactly what Tony was going for. "So, what exactly are we here for," Peter asked, looking around the store.

With a shrug, Tony shook his head. "Food for over the weekend," Tony said. He started pushing the cart toward the produce. "I figured that we can do Chicken Noodle Soup on Sunday, if you're up for it. The rest of the weekend, I have absolutely no idea."

"We could always do pizza rolls," Peter offered. The glare that came from Tony made him pause. "...or not."

"I just want to know how on Earth you'd like something not only so cheaply made, but just vile at the same time," Tony says as he grabs some vegetables, inspecting them before putting them into the cart.

Sighing, Peter shrugged. "I dunno. I guess we were just poor."

That made Tony pause. The cucumber he had in hand was placed back into the crate they were in before Tony grabbed another. "Well, good thing you're not anymore. I'll make sure you never have to eat a pizza roll ever again."

"But I like them," Peter said, fake whining.

"Eh, get over it," Tony joked. He shopped around for a little more produce before heading toward the deli. "Do you want stuff for sandwiches? We could do that for lunch tomorrow," he offered.

Nodding, Peter looked around the store. "Yeah, that sounds good. As long as you get both ham and pepperoni, though. None of that salami shit," he says.

"No salami shit, got it." Tony walked up to the deli, getting a pound of pepperoni and a pound of ham. While they started packaging it up for him, he turned to Peter. "Hey, wait a second. That's two swear words in one day. That's two swear words too many."

Peter held up his hands. "You're right. I'm so sorry," he said. "I hope you can forgive me, kind sir. Oh please, please-"

"I'll forgive you if you stop," Tony said. He smiled at Peter and ruffled his hair. "Oh, maybe we can do pork chops for dinner tomorrow night," he said, glancing at the precut meat.

The way Peter's eyes lit up said that was a good idea. "I would love pork chops. As long as we get applesauce, of course."

"I still don't know how you came up with that, but I know that it has since changed the pork chop game. We'll pick up a jar of applesauce," Tony said. He walked back over to the counter, grabbing the deli and thanking the guy behind the counter.

When Tony came back over, he saw Peter holding a package of skewers in his hand. "Tony, look! They make really long toothpicks now!"

Giving Peter a weird look, Tony took the package from Peter. "Those aren't long toothpicks. It's a package of skewers."

"What the hell is a skewer," Peter asked.

Tony paused. "Well-"

"An extra long toothpick?"

Sighing, Tony shook his head. "You aren't winning this battle," he said. He put the package back down.

"Okay, but like, seriously. What do they use those for," Peter asked.

"Shishkabobs," Tony said.

"Oh. I've never had a shishkabob before. Are they any good," Peter asked as Tony had started to walk forward. He stopped after a second, seeing that Tony had stopped walking forward. "Tony?"

The man was looking at the kid with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, did you just say you've never had a shishkabob before?"

Peter nodded. "Uh, yeah? Why?"

That's how, hours later, Tony found himself standing at his grill, cooking shishkabobs. He didn't care that it could start raining any second. He didn't care if it was too cold to be grilling. All he cared about was making the best damn shishkabob he could for the best damn kid he knew. Well, one of the best damn kids he knew. Morgan was a pretty damn good kid. And so was Harley. On occasions he wasn't shooting at Tony with his potato gun, of course.

Finally finishing up, Tony took the last shishkabob off the grill, turning the fire off and closing the lid. He grabbed the shishkabobs that he grilled, bringing them inside. "Dinner's ready," he announced to the house.

A few seconds later, Pepper, Morgan and Peter came into the kitchen with smiles on their faces. "That smells wonderful, honey," Pepper said, kissing Tony on the cheek.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her on top of her head.

"Ewwww," Morgan said, turning away when Tony and Pepper kissed each other. She was currently in her 'I hate kissing' phase. Fine by Tony. He hoped she would stay in that phase till she was done with college.

Everyone had a short little laugh at Morgan's reaction before they all worked together to set the table. Once the table was set and everyone was plated, Tony smiled. "Let's eat."

Peter took a bite of his shishkabob, Tony watching him intently. "Well," he asked when Peter had finished it.

Pausing to think of a reaction. "It's good," Peter said with a shrug. "Just not as good as a pizza rolls."

That's it for this chapter! Remember to drink some water, eat something, take medicine (if you have to), and rest today. You did a good job and I am proud of you :)
Till next time
- Storm