Work Text:
“What are these abominations?” Tony asked, looking at the pale yellow fruit in the basket Pepper had just set down on the counter.
“They’re lemons. From the lemon tree?”
“These are the ugliest lemons I’ve ever seen,” he said, picking one up and looking at it.
“Ugly or not, I bet they’ll make good lemonade, especially with that basket of raspberries I got from the farmer’s market.” Pepper took the lemon out of her husband’s hand and put it back in the basket, standing next to him. His hands now free, he put them on the burgeoning belly holding their daughter. “I have a craving for fresh raspberry lemonade.”
“Then I’ll make it for you and Morgana,” he said.
“You? Make fresh squeezed raspberry lemonade?”
“As long as you get me some real lemons.”
“Tony, I swear, I picked them myself. They are actually real lemons.” She framed his head and kissed his forehead, leveraging her height against him. “I can make it.”
“No, no. You gatherer. Me provider. Me make lemonade.”
“Okay,” Pepper said with a laugh.
–
An hour later, one large glass of raspberry lemonade emerged from the kitchen. Pepper declared it perfect but said Tony had to clean up after himself, but she’d share some of the perfect raspberry lemonade with him if he did it before dinner.
It was the best damn lemonade ever if he did say so himself.