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Pippa bounced up and down on her toes as she waited for her Uncle Bruce to look-up from his book as he read in the squishy chair in front of her Uncle Tony's library's fireplace.
When Bruce reached the end of his page, he placed his bookmark and lay the book on the side table; for Pippa's sake Bruce was happy that the seemingly endless days of thunderstorms appeared to be over, drizzle was far superior to lightening and downpours.
"Is your book good?" Pippa asked, twisting back and forth in her yellow rain coat.
"Not so good that I would miss going to the Autumn Festival with you," Bruce said.
"Yay," Pippa cheered, reaching for her Uncle Bruce's hand, tugging him to rise, and walk toward the elevator; "it's chilly, we should stop for your sweater or something."
Bruce smiled and patted the little red-haired girl on the back of her head as she asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to stop on his floor; reaching inside the front door of his apartment, he snagged his N,Y, Giants jacket from the hall-tree right inside the doorway.
Clint was waiting in the driver's seat of his harvest orange and purple racing striped Dodge Charger when his daughter and Bruce finally showed-up in the parking garage. "About time, Pip," Clint said, through the open window.
"We're early," Pippa said, looking carefully at the Captain America watch on her wrist, cheeks rosy from her excitement.
"Keep it up and I'll leave you in the corn maze," Clint said.
"I'll sick a scarecrow on you," Pippa said, climbing into the back seat of the car and wrapping her arms around her daddy's neck, kissing him on the cheek as her Uncle Bruce got into the passenger seat.
As Clint drove out of the city and toward upstate New York, Pippa chanted, "faster", as the colorful, fall leaves whipped by.
"That might not be the best idea," Bruce said, trying to concentrate on the roadside signs for fresh apples, roasted chestnuts and even something called haystack bowling. This was too close to his road trip out west with Tony when there was sign after sign for something called Wall.
"It's okay, Mr. Hulk," Pippa said, leaning over the seat and patting her Uncle Bruce on his slightly greening cheek, "if you're good, maybe they'll let you in the pumpkin pie eating contest."
"Sorry," Bruce said, his color returning slowly to normal.
"If I were worried I wouldn't let you in the car with my kid," Clint said.
"I'm not worried, Uncle Bruce," Pippa said.
Bruce wanted to tell her she should be, but he thought better of it. With the exception of Tony, Pippa seemed to be one of The Other Guy's favorites.
As Clint entered the parking lot, Pippa started to bounce in the back seat. "Uncle Bruce, will you be in the pumpkin carving contest with me?"
"Don't you want your daddy--" Bruce began.
Pippa giggled. "He's Hawkeye."
"What's that have to do with it?" Bruce asked.
"Best not to ask," Clint said, following the parking attendant's instructions and pulling his car into the muddy space.