Winter Memories

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It was barely a week from Christmas and New York was bustling with people. The usually busy city was five times more hectic as people went from place to place, looking for last minute gifts for family and friends. The cars in the street honked in a song without a beat, the sound mixing with the joyful carols of singing women, men, and children. People stood outside of stores with buckets, ringing bells as they asked for donations in the spirit of the season. Five different mall Santas walked around, calling out 'Merry Christmas!' to children and adults alike.

A young brown haired boy darted between people, pulling a man in his mid forties behind him. To the unknowing eyes, they looked like they could have been possible family - maybe father and son or perhaps uncle and nephew, both of them having brown hair and a light to their eyes, smiles bright on their faces, but it only took a quick look at the latest paper on the most recent kids' science convention to know that the boy was none other than Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, and the man was his kind butler and long time friend of the parents. His name was Edwin Jarvis.

"Slow down, young sir!" Jarvis called to his charge, but he clearly couldn't fight back the laughter that was seeping into his voice. "There is no need to run!"

"Yes, there is," Tony disagreed, glancing back at him. The boy slowed down enough so he wasn't pushing his poor butler so hard, allowing the man to catch up and walk beside him in quick strides. The seven year old never really thought of Jarvis as his butler - more as an uncle or friend, sometimes a father-figure. It was sad that he thought of him that way at times, but his own father was barely ever home. He was either running Stark Industries or going on one of his thousands of expeditions to look for the famed Captain America who froze in the artic decades ago. He was still holding onto hope that he was still alive to the point where he barely gave Tony any attention. "I have to get them, Jarvis."

He saw his butler shake his head fondly, a small smile on his face. Tony turned to face ahead of him, looking around in awe. New York was always heavily decorated with beautiful lights and the boy always loved it. It was his second favorite part of Christmas, right behind having the yearly snowball fight with Jarvis and Ana, his wife.

Thinking of said snowball fight, he looked toward the sky. The clouds had been delivering snow for weeks now and a fresh coating had already settled over the land, another just ready to fall from the sky. The millions of feet traveling over the landscape had knocked the coating off the streets, but roofs, windowsills lampposts, and maybe other things still had thick toppings of snow. The weather should be perfect for the snowball fight and this year Tony was more than ready! He had built himself a snowball launcher over the past month and was carefully looking over the details every day. This was going to be the best snowball fight ever!

He tugged on Jarvis's hand in a silent request for them to move faster and the man obliged. The child continued to look around, almost pressing his face to the glass of shop displays as he looked at everything he could: active toy trains, clothes,  jewelry, Christmas decorations, and a million other things. He could barely stay still from the excitement of where they were going and his eyes were jumping from thing to thing, hungry to see every little thing the giant city had to offer.

"We're here, young sir," Jarvis announced, bringing the young boy's attention back to him. The man opened the door and Tony skipped inside, breathing in the scent of hot chocolate and delicious pastries. The tiny bakery was not too packed and there was now even less of a chance of him being recognized. Tony dusted small flecks of snow off of his expensive clothes, straightening his dark blue jacket and black beanie just like his mother taught him to do. He shook off his boots on the cheery welcome matt before walking onto the hard floor, Jarvis doing the same. Together, the two walked toward the more expensive area of cookies, a cashier immeadiately meeting them from behind the counter.

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