st_arkravinghazelnut

"A good skater." Tony matched his pace with Thor's, puffing up beneath his thick scarf. Even middle-class hand-me-downs had little bearing on his demeanor. "An excellent kick-boxer. Business instincts like a shark. Oh, don't let that fool you, she is a woman of culture. Served as my company's lead curator for years."

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"I don't know if my Jane's good at skating or kickboxing, but she's a brilliant scientist, the best astrophysicist out there. She's giving a talk at this conference about Foster theory. It's named after her because she was the one who came up with it."

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Tony nodded politely along to Thor's words, continuing his leisurely slide backwards. "You know, Pepper was well established in her field right out of--"

However Tony Stark intended to finish that one-up was cut short when he was bowling over and snorting ice courtesy of a passing child using his trailing scarf as a convenient leverage point on their race with their friends.

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Thor makes the mistake of pushing himself away from the rinkside, to try and help Tony to his feet; instead, he moves too quickly, stumbles, and winds up on the ground next to him.

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One of the kids from the group skate back to where Thor and Tony are left sprawled out on the ice.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, offering them a hand up.

And just then, Thor turns over. Peter's widen with recognition and he struggles to get anything out at all. Thor had been his second-favorite Avenger since basically forever.

Finally, he manages to spit the words out: "You're -- you're Thor!"

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"Yeah, he's thor, I'm thor. Thick and thired of kithing ithe." Tony piped up from nearby, pushing himself shakily up on his forearms. 'No one check on Tony, he's fine.'

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Peter stands there on the ice, shocked as the two Avengers (Avengers!) pull themselves to their feet; neither one reaches for his hand, but Peter knows it's because they're Avengers. They don't need the help of a ten-year old kid -- there's nothing they can't handle.

Still, a goofy, embarrassed grin forms on his face as he stuffs his gloved hand into his pocket, trying to will himself to breathe so that he can somehow manage to say something -- anything to his first-favorite Avenger, but all he can really do is stand there in stunned silence.

It takes a moment, but then Peter swallows and somehow, that clears his throat enough that he's finally able to get something out.

"Mr. Stark," he says, and he can't manage to say anything more than that.

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"Uh, no, I'm actually a Tony Stark impersonator. Camp out in the Columbus Circle. Got a birthday party coming up, kid?" Tony hugged the railing as he dragged himself up, posing casually against it, as if the whole spectacle was fully intentional.

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"No, I mean," Peter looks from Thor to Tony. "I've got both of your action figures."

Peter presses his lips together. "Can I get your autograph?" Then, worried that he might be imposing, Peter begins races to continue:

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he says, waving his hands in front of him. "I know you probably get this all the time."

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"Certainly."

Thor looks at Tony and nods a head towards Peter in an act that clearly means one thing:

You should give the kid an autograph.

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Relenting, Tony pushed off the metal and skated slowly towards the direction of the stairs. "Fine, kid. Got a pen? Crayola?"

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Peter begins digging through the pockets of his heavy jacket, skating after Tony (and ahead of Thor, who was going considerably slower than the rest of the pack).

And when he pulls out his pockets, all he has is a phone, a fifteen dollars for hot cocoa and a snack and the fare back, and one of those one-use-only heating pads May insisted he take just in case.

"Um."

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"Ah." Tony looked about the passing crowds--no one was staring, thank God. He considered appealing to one of the women for their lipstick, but hell, he was Iron Man. He could do better.

"There's one in the limo. C'mon, kid, wanna race? You can say you left the God of Thunder in the dust."

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Peter skates alongside of him; he's all jitters and nerves now. He can't believe he's talking to Tony Stark. Iron Man. About...

"The limo?"

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Tony pushed his thick sleeve up his forearm, revealing a slick silver and black watch bearing a small screen as its face. He brought it near his lips. "JARVIS, bring Christine around. I've got an ankle-biter with me."

"Yours, Sir? I was counting the days."

"I'll take a pen and paper. Hold the sass."

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Peter tries to will himself to say something intelligible.

"Is Jarvis your butler, sir?" he asks. He's not sure who Christine is, either. A personal assistant? Mr. Stark would have to have one, right?

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"An AI I carry around in my pocket. Also, 'Mr. Stark' is fine. I've not yet been knighted." He gave a single pat to the boy's head. They emerged onto the raised concrete platform, and Tony knelt to remove his skates. "So. Uh. You go to school around here, kid?"

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An AI. A real, actual AI! Of course Mr. Stark would have an AI! Peter tries to reign in his excitement at that revelation, and attempts to steady his voice.

"Yeah, uh, in Queens."

Peter finds himself gesturing over in the direction of the borough, then suddenly feels embarrassed at having done it. Mr. Stark definitely knew where Queens was. "I'm in 5th grade this year."

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"Turn your homework in on time? Eat your veggies?" Tony slipped his feet into his regular shoes after getting them returned--a pair of sketchers picked up on sale at Value Village.

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Peter is still walking around on skates. The fact he's still wearing them doesn't even register in his head right now.

"Always, s-- Mr. Stark," he says. "I really want to be an inventor when I grow up. Just like -- you know, just like you."

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"Uh-huh. Eat your spinach and peas and get A's and B's and you can be just like Iron Man one day." Tony pushed to stand, mentally cringing at how identical he sounded to those god awful Captan America PSAs. "Wanna, uh, get your feet on there, champ?" He gestured towards the skates.

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Peter looks down at his feet, realizing for the first time that his skates are still there.

"Uh, yeah, yeah," he says and he sits down and begins to unlace just as Thor joins them and sits right beside him.

Thor. Sitting next to him. Unlacing his skates like a normal person.

Was this real life?

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"Are we leaving?" Thor asks as he begins, untying his skates. It proves an easier task than tying them up. He can barely remember Tony's explanation now, except it involved dogs and rabbits. Or was it wolves and rabbits? Thor can't remember.

"Did you give him your autograph?"

Thor sets a hand on Peter's back, and he can feel the boy tense beneath his hand, so he gives him a few more friendly pats to loosen him up a little. Far less strong than he might give them to Tony. Midgardian children were precious, but they were also very fragile.

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"We can come back another day." Tony gave a few firm pats to Thor's back in turn. "Pen and paper is being delivered courtesy of Christine. C'mon, boys." Tony set off, motioning them to follow. The Bentley was no doubt waiting right past the gates.

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