Irondad/Spiderson Oneshots

6

(five times tony loses peter)

I.

It's a normal night. Tony is breaking his back over a chicken stir fry while Stevie Wonder plays throughout the kitchen. Pepper, who has been working late the past few nights, always comes home to dinner and music—plus, her oddly eccentric fiancé serenading her with a wooden spatula. He can be found with a dish towel draped across his shoulder with oil and teriyaki stains down the front, and he will commonly be seen in a Black Sabbath tee that has had its fair share of washes. It's the sweet feeling of domesticity that dampens and distracts whatever noise is in his brain. It's a normal night.

FRIDAY interrupts "Higher Ground" when the front door unlocks, but it isn't to vocalize Miss Potts' arrival. Tony lowers the temperature of the burner and leans against the counter.

"It's strange, boss—Mister Parker has been in the suit for the past two hours, but I can no longer find a signal on his tracker."

Tony furrows his brows. "Okay, so, he took off the suit?"

"The suit was not powered down," the AI answers. "The connection was just... lost."

Lost. Tony doesn't like the sound of that. Nothing is ever lost, but sometimes things can't be found. "Run some diagnostics. Maybe there's been a malfunction, or—"

"Everything is working as it normally should, boss, but I'm not receiving any information about Mister Parker's whereabouts."

With a sigh, Tony sets down the dish towel and rubs beside his eyes. "So, you're saying he removed the tracker."

"I'm saying he removed the tracker."

"Jesus fucking—oh, hi honey, how are you?" He grins at his wife, and it's one of those plastic smiles that is only a cause for more concern. "How was work? Make any new friends today?"

Pepper returns his smile, although hers is tight and wary, and she slowly sets her belongings down onto the marble countertop. "Yeah. Tons. So, I hear you're missing the kid."

"Missing is an overstatement," Tony says as he rounds the corner of the counter. He places his hand on Pepper's waist to kiss her good evening. "I'm making the best damn stir fry you will ever have in your life. You excited? You should be excited."

She laughs quietly, closing her eyes and shaking her head while he returns to the stovetop. "I am so excited. But, I can also take it from here if you need to go find your Spider-Kid."

Tony waves a hand. "He removes the tracker once a month, at least. I'm not gonna let it ruin a good dinner that will absolutely knock your socks off. Here—" He lifts a piece of chicken up onto the spatula. "Prepare to be blown away."

Pepper is hesitant, yet she tries the food nevertheless. She chews and smiles tightly before she hums. "Yes. Wow. Blown away." She reaches over and turns the burner up. "Cold."

"Shit."

"Tony," she says.

"That doesn't sound like a good Tony."

Pepper folds her arms. "Are you not worried about him?"

Tony shakes his head and tosses the cut chicken around in the pan. They hit the surface with a crisp sizzle. "I've learned that if I think about things while I'm cooking dinner, then I'm eight-five-percent more likely to burn the kitchen down. Isn't that crazy? I'm not worried, Pep. He's a big kid now."

"Well, what if he's in trouble?" she asks him, folding her arms. "You could call him. I know you're freaking out somewhere in that big head of yours."

"Hey, it's not—" Tony sighs, handing the spatula over to Pepper with a defeated frown. "Fine. I'll call him. If you mess up my food—"