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“Barton what have you done with my son?” Tony said into the phone. He could hear stifled laughter in the background that sounded very much like a 6 year old with his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.
“I’m teaching him life skills,” Clint said.
“We’re hiding!” Peter said in the background.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s the middle of the day, and it’s a shopping center, there are people everywhere,” he said, “if anyone sees you-”
“It wouldn’t be hiding then, would it?” Clint said, and Tony could hear the smirk over the phone.
“Clint Barton you bring my son back right this minute or I swear all those ‘life skills’ won’t protect you from the hell I will bring down on you. Or up on- just bring him back!”
He hung up the phone and turned to Steve. “Can I turn the navigation system on now?”
“No, hang on,” Steve said, “I have an idea.”
He took Tony’s hand and they strolled down the path, as if it was a normal Sunday afternoon. “Steve, what are you doing?”
“Shhh,” Steve said, “listen.”
They walked a little further and he heard it. Peter’s laughter, coming from somewhere above them. “I’m gonna kill him,” he said, and he would have pulled away and made his way up to the sound if Steve hadn’t held him back.
Instead he pulled Tony calmly to the point just below the sound and looked up. “Peter,” he called up, “come down now please.”
“I’m hiding,” Peter called back.
“Peter,” Steve said, “I won’t ask again.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a line dropped right in front of them. Peter came down first, and Clint followed.
“Dads!” Peter said, putting his arms around Tony, “you found me!”
“We did!” Tony said, then glared at Clint, “You ever do that again Barton and-”
“You’ll tell on me to Fury?” Clint said with a smirk.
“No, I’ll tell Tasha,” Tony said.
Clint’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh yeah, watch me!”
Steve put a hand up. “Guys,” he said, “seriously?”
“Daddy,” Peter said, looking between them, “can we get ice cream?”
“Sure, Pete,” Steve said, picking him up and moving away from Clint and Tony, who were still trying to stare each other down while following them at the same time.
“I want strawberry and chocolate and blueberry,” Peter said.
“Should we get any for daddy and uncle Clint?” Steve asked.
“Yes!” Peter said, “Uncle Clint is teaching me how to be a spy.”
“Yeah?” Steve said, “and you’re going to be a careful spy, right?”
“Yes, daddy,” Peter said, rolling his eyes, “just like you and daddy Tony.”
“Maybe more careful than daddy Tony,” Steve said, smiling, “and we talked about this Pete, me and daddy are not spies.”
“I know,” Peter sighed, “daddy Tony is a scientist and you’re a volunteer.”
“Are you two talking about me?” Tony said, finally catching up with them, Clint close behind.
“Yes!” Pete said, “You are not spies!”
“That’s right, kiddo,” Clint said, and winked, “no spies here.”
“Uncle Clint will you tell aunt Tasha to teach me more spy stuff?”
“Of course,” Clint said, “if your dads say yes.”
Tony opened his mouth to protest but found his arms full as Peter threw himself at him. “Daddy pleeaaase.”
Tony caught him and sighed. “I thought we’re getting ice cream,” he said, “we can talk about it after.”
“Ice cream! I want strawberry and chocolate and blueberry!”
’Big trouble,’ he mouthed at Clint, who just smirked again and put on his sunglasses.
Peter might be a handful, and his uncles even more so, but Tony was okay with that. He’d take this trouble for the rest of his life over what peace meant 10 years ago.