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With all of the hormonal shifts Peter was experiencing throughout his pregnancy, just about anything could set him off. It always happened at the most unexpected times, and as a result his loved ones began to walk on eggshells around him. Their hesitance served to upset him further, and they resigned themselves to acting the way they usually did, knowing that any move they made could be the wrong one. Peter was aware of how uncomfortable that made all parties involved. He did his best to keep his emotions in check, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.
One such occasion came on what had been a calm Thursday night. Tony had come home from work earlier than usual, his worry for Peter shooting through the roof the further he got into pregnancy. He wanted to be around as much as possible and was planning on taking time off of work to be there for Peter and the baby. Once he did, he wouldn’t go back until the baby was at least a year old. He’d never been as thankful as he was now for his privilege as owner and CEO.
Tony had left Peter to rest in their bedroom, unable to lie still after Peter drifted off. He found himself in the kitchen, the bright light from the refrigerator illuminating his face, and rummaged around until he found a container of pistachio ice cream. Peter was on a pistachio kick as of late, to the point where Tony could easily find at least five pistachio-flavored items in the kitchen if he felt inclined to.
He tugged off the lid and tossed it onto the counter. With one hand cradling the container to his chest, Tony felt around blindly for a spoon. His fingers curled along the cool silver of a spoon laying conveniently by the sink, and he snatched it up with a small, victorious cheer. Armed with everything he needed to enjoy his ice cream, Tony wandered over to the nearest couch and plopped down. He dug his spoon into the container before feeding himself, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth as the flavor hit his tongue. Tony switched on the TV and settled back, occasionally spooning himself ice cream. This is the life of kings, he thought.
Tony was brought out of his contented state when he heard a gasp from the entrance to the living room. He glanced over to check out the source of the sound and found Peter staring at him with wide, betrayed eyes.
“Are you okay, honey?” Tony asked, concern filling his chest.
Peter’s face fell, tears making their way to his eyes. “You ate my ice cream.”
“You can have the rest,” Tony assured him, holding out the container. When faced with silence, he peered down at the container and was horrified to find it empty. “Pete…”
“I’ve been saving that all week,” Peter sniffled. “You know how I crave pistachio. I wanted to have it on our movie night on Friday. I was so excited to finally eat it.”
“I’ll get you more before we have our movie night,” Tony promised. “I’ll get some first thing tomorrow.”
Peter sighed woefully. “They’re out of pistachio, Tony. There’s a shortage. If I could’ve gotten more I would’ve just done it.”
As Tony struggled to come up with a response, Peter turned away, shaking his head. He paused on his way out of the living room, just long enough to say, “I think it’s best if you sleep in a different room tonight. Take the couch if you’re feeling creative. I just can’t look at you right now.”
With that said, Peter returned to the master bedroom with slumped shoulders. The moment he was out of earshot, Tony fell back on the couch, groaning. The thing was, Peter had told Tony that he was saving the ice cream for their movie night. He’d been buzzing with happiness at the time. How could Tony have forgotten?
It felt worse to know that Peter wasn’t angry. He was upset and disappointed, and sure, ice cream may seem like a trivial thing to be upset over in the first place, but Tony preferred that his husband be cheerful. He strived to keep a smile on his face at all times, would do anything and everything to make him laugh. To know that he was failing and, furthermore, actively saddening Peter, was a kick to the gut.
“FRIDAY,” Tony barked, determination crossing his face. “Find me the nearest place that sells pistachio ice cream.”
“A Crossroads County Market in Wausau, Wisconsin is the closest grocery store with pistachio ice cream listed on its inventory. Would you like me to schedule a flight for tomorrow?” FRIDAY asked, not at all fazed by the absurdity of the situation.
Just like her creator, she would go to extreme lengths to please Peter. It was a trait that could be found in all of Tony’s children. It made him proud, especially because he hadn’t programmed them to be that way. It served as further confirmation that Tony had chosen the right person to spend forever with.
“That’ll take too long.” Tony shook his head. “Send up Mark L. We’re going on a nighttime adventure.”
FRIDAY didn’t respond, but Tony didn’t need her to. He knew his command would be followed and was proven right when Mark L settled on the landing pad outside. Tony made his way out and joined the suit, allowing it to melt over his skin until he was fully covered. He usually kept this suit with him in case of emergencies, but this time it was in the lab for some tweaks. Tony hadn’t gotten to those yet, too absorbed by Peter’s presence and later by the TV.
He set off for Wisconsin at once, grumbling slightly when his interface lit up with his estimated time of arrival. The two hours he had until he reached his destination would be felt without a doubt, but it was a small price to pay to make his sweetheart happy. Besides, he had AC/DC to keep him company.
“FRI, be a dear and turn up the speakers.” Tony grinned, twirling in the sky when the first notes to AC/DC’s “Back in Black” trilled through the suit.
This would be fun.
-
It was not fun.
Tony reached the store five minutes before closing. The exhausted employees inside were sending him not-so-subtle scathing glares, but Tony paid them no mind. He was sorry to bother them, but he had a pregnant husband at home to take care of. With only a few minutes left, Tony was scurrying around the store like a chicken with its head cut off, desperate to find some pistachio ice cream.
He was able to find a freezer stocked with ice cream, but it was filled to the brim with different flavors and he was forced to take them all out to check the back. There, in the farthest corner, was a gallon of pistachio ice cream. Tony reached for it with eager hands, scooping it up and holding it to himself protectively. He shoved all the other containers back in the freezer, having enough wits about him left to be more courteous to the employees than he had been.
Tony made it to the checkout counter with thirty seconds left until closing. He had a terrifying moment where he thought he didn’t have money with him, but he managed to find a hundred dollar bill in one of his pockets, and tried not to feel offended when the cashier scrutinized it with suspicious eyes.
His bill seemed to pass the test, because the cashier shrugged and kept it, giving him his change and his ice cream.
“Have a nice night.” Tony nodded at the cashier, dropping all of his change into the tip jar. The cashier brightened up, giving Tony their first smile of the night. It was bright enough that their cheeks must have hurt from the stretch.
“Goodnight, sir. Thank you for the tip.”
Tony wasted no time hopping back into his suit. The adrenaline that had come with his frantic rush was slowly dwindling, and as Tony set off on his journey home with the hard-earned ice cream clutched to his chest, he grew more aware of the intense ache behind his eyes. FRIDAY didn’t say anything about the frequent rate at which his eyes were slipping shut. At least, not until he almost flew head-first into a cell phone tower.
“Boss, may I suggest switching to autopilot before you fall asleep?” FRIDAY prodded.
Tony’s eyebrows slanted downwards. “No you may not.”
“The ice cream will be safe,” she assured him.
Tony heaved an exhausted sigh. “It goddamn better be, FRIDAY, or I’ll replace you with an Alexa.”
Anything FRIDAY might have said in retort fell upon deaf ears. Tony was asleep within seconds. She watched over him and his ice cream throughout the entire journey home, carefully avoiding planes and birds alike, with the tightest grip she could manage without breaking the container.
It was nearing three in the morning by the time they settled on the landing pad. FRIDAY hesitated, torn between allowing her creator to get his rest and rousing him so he could get in bed. She decided to guide the suit into the penthouse, towards the guest room closest to the master suite. She wanted to respect Peter’s earlier words, and she knew Tony was happiest when closest to Peter, so this seemed like the best compromise possible at the moment.
FRIDAY commanded the front of the suit to glide back into its housing unit. The sudden lack of support had Tony collapsing face-forward onto the bed in the guest room. She made sure his breathing wasn’t muffled by the pillows, briefly concerned by his rough fall, before allowing the suit to take full form again and heading to the kitchen.
Her last, and seemingly most important, task was to place the tub of ice cream in the freezer. Once that was taken care of, FRIDAY sent the suit back to the lab and aimed her focus at the CCTV cameras stationed around and in the tower, as per her usual night routine. No one would be harming the Starks under her watch.
In the quiet of the night, peace settled over the penthouse.