I came out of TWS really wanting to write B/P fic in the aftermath of the SHIELD collapse, but I didn't want to just timeskip through the other Phase 2 movies, so this fic is my compromise. It's not a longfic so much as it is a transition piece, with each chapter made up of a few scenes taking place in the aftermath of the major events between Avengers and TWS. I did fudge a few small things to get my series to fit with the canon as smoothly as possible, but overall I'm trying to stay canon compliant up until Age of Ultron changes everything. TASM2, on the other hand, I'm not sticking with except to cannibalize some of its characters and themes. This fic is rated Teen for violence and language. Takes place after "My Boyfriend is Indestructible."

Many thanks to my sister TK, and my betas Birdy and Jenetica for helping me with this fic! Comments and concrit are welcome and appreciated :)

66 Weeks of Aftermath
Chapter 1: The Mandarin

Natasha didn't say anything for almost the entire three hour flight. She would have had to have raised her voice over the noise of the helicopter to be heard, which wouldn't have been worth the effort until she knew exactly what she intended to say. More importantly, timing was everything. Steve was practically vibrating next to her; she wasn't about to rile him up inside a tin can with too much time left still on the clock.

They were less than fifteen minutes from their destination when she turned to Steve and said, "Are you gonna be able to keep it together down there?"

Steve bristled. He didn't have many buttons worth pressing, but those he did were so easy. "I don't know what you mean," he replied.

"Stark's had a hard time of it. House blown up, president kidnapped-"

"He should have thought of that sooner," said Steve matter-of-factly. To his credit, he didn't sound as bitter as he could have been, but Natasha wasn't convinced his calm veneer would hold up once he and Tony were face to face. "Whoever the Mandarin ended up being, Stark called him down on his head himself. And he knows it."

Natasha tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'm not sure it's that simple."

Steve glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He was probably onto her already. "It's not like you to defend Stark."

"I'm not," she said. "I just want to know that you won't-"

"This isn't about me," said Steve, in his this conversation is over tone. Natasha settled again and let the matter drop, satisfied.

They landed at the The Cube a few minutes later and disembarked almost directly into Agent Sitwell's handshake. "Captain," he greeted them briskly. "Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming, but the situation is actually-"

"Excuse us, Agent Sitwell," said Steve. He didn't break stride as he returned Sitwell's handshake as tightly and briefly as possible and then moved on, toward the roof access door. Natasha followed close behind. She liked letting Steve take the lead when he was in a mood; everything proceeded so much more efficiently. Sitwell had to hurry to catch up, and without giving them any grief about their unexpected visit he led them directly to "special" quarantine.

The chamber wasn't unlike a bomb disposal room. The walls were reinforced steel alloy and the viewing window several layers of blast-proof glass. Natasha spared only a glance at the patient inside. For the moment she wasn't their focus.

Tony was standing at the window. His T-shirt and pants were singed and tattered, and bruises were in the process of darkening around his jaw and temple. His wrists were raw with the familiar bites restraints, and his eyes were bloodshot and heavy with fatigue. Natasha stood by her preliminary assessment: he had had a hard time of it.

Steve saw it, too, and his shoulders drooped minutely. "Stark."

Tony went tight like a rat in a trap. "Rogers."

Steve looked through the window, and Natasha could see him talking himself down. "How is she?" he asked.

"She's going to be all right," said Tony, but he was still stiff. "The Extremis formula wasn't as complicated as Hansen made it out to be. It was a lot easier to reverse than to stabilize." He nodded to himself. "She'll be fine."

Steve nodded as well, but his sympathy was able to hold his righteous anger at bay for only so long, and he was already tensing up again. "I'm glad. It sounds like you had a pretty close call."

Tony snorted. He could always be counted on to make things worse. "All right, here we go."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Rogers, we both know you're here to bust my balls," said Tony, turning away from the window. "So let's just get it over with, all right? So I can get back to worrying about more important things."

Oh, Tony, thought Natasha, taking a step back as Steve took a step forward. You just can't help yourself, can you?

"This isn't about me giving you a hard time," said Steve. "I want to know what happened." He might have stopped there, except for Tony rolling his eyes. "And why you handled it the way you did."

"And here I thought the whole point of being debriefed half a dozen times was so that there'd be a convenient report for others to read," Tony muttered. "Saving me from having to repeat myself over and over."

"I'm not talking about-"

"You know what happened." Tony shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared Steve down. "And if you're thinking I screwed up, fine, I screwed up. Is that what you stormed in here to say? I know, all right, I've got it. So come on. What else have you got?"

Tony was a damn fine button-pusher himself; Steve had no choice but to pause and reevaluate his approach. "I want to know why, Stark," he said at last.

"Why what?"

"Are we really going to do it like this?" Steve took another step forward. "You know what I'm asking."

"Fury said you were in Pakistan." It rolled off Tony's tongue so easily anyone could have seen that he'd been practicing.

"Yes, and then we were in Malibu. If you'd told us where you were going-"

"I was unconscious when I left Malibu," Tony interrupted. "And from then on I was kind of in a time sensitive situation."

"It's a thirteen hour drive from Rose Hill to Miami," said Natasha. "We could have easily met you there in a Quinjet."

Tony gave her a tired look, but then he drew his focus back to Steve. "This wasn't about timing," Steve was saying. "Or about where anyone was. You were in way over your head and you should have contacted us."

"I had Rhodey with me."

"I read Colonel Rhodes' debrief, too, so don't try to spin what happened."

Tony squirmed. He looked like he had a lot to say and then changed course at the last second. "What happened is I did call it in, to the VP. Rhodey and I had no way of knowing he was in on it."

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" said Steve with mounting irritation. "Because I really thought we were past this all being about you."

"Yeah," said Tony, rolling his eyes again, "because apparently now it's all about you."

That was it. Natasha could almost see Tony reach out and poke Steve right in his biggest button. She took a discreet step to the side to watch the inevitable reaction play out.

"All right," said Steve through tight jaws. "All right, I get it." He took a step back. "Tell Pepper I'm glad she's okay."

Tony remained perfectly still. "So we're done?"

"Yeah. We're done."

Steve turned on his heel and left. Where he intended to go Natasha had no idea, but she was fairly confident he wasn't angry enough hop in the helicopter and abandon her there, so once the door was closed behind him she took up his space next to Tony.

"You must have known it was going to go that well," said Tony.

"I was counting on it." Natasha folded her arms and leaned against the window, watching him closely. "Because now you're keyed up and feeling defensive, and you're going to want to tell me everything you wish you'd said to him."

Tony made a face. "This whole manipulation thing you do isn't as effective when you outright tell a person you're doing it."

Natasha returned his glare with calm attention. "Isn't it?"

Tony hemmed on it a while longer, but when he looked back into the chamber, where Pepper was asleep under the watchful eyes of a dozen cameras and medical sensors, he sighed. "The truth is, I almost lost her."

Natasha looked for herself and softened with sympathy. "We've come close before," Tony continued, "but this time..." He shook his head. "She's gonna be fine, of course. But even after they picked us up, I couldn't stop thinking...Rogers would have caught her. He's fast, and he's got those..." He gestured helplessly. "Those freakish super-reflexes and long arms. Or Parker-he's got his webs. Bruce could have jumped right in after her." He looked to Natasha. "I don't know what you would have done-you've probably got a gadget for that or something."

"If it were me," said Natasha coolly, "she wouldn't have been in that position in the first place."

Tony grimaced and rubbed his eyes. "You know, I'm only telling you this because I figured you wouldn't be judgey about it."

"I'm not judging. I know how hard it is to admit to Rogers he's always right."

"He is not always right," Tony said pointedly.

Natasha smirked. "That's what makes it so hard. But he is right, this time." She tapped on the window with her knuckle. "Like you said, it was close. It didn't have to be that way. So why go it alone, Stark? I know you better than to think it was just pride."

"I had Rhodey with me," Tony reminded her, but when Natasha continued to stare at him, unblinking, he finally relented. "Killian was my problem. I didn't want anyone else involved."

"You're not responsible for global terrorists," said Natasha, though not necessarily in a reassuring way. "Or industry peers imitating global terrorists."

"This was business, but it was also personal, and it was about me. I made him. Again." He waved in the direction Steve had gone. "Like hell I was going to let him be there when that part came out. He's always looking to blame me for something."

Natasha sighed with amusement. "You really don't understand him at all, do you?"

Tony started to answer and then shook his head. "Well, when you say it like that..."

Natasha moved closer. "We saw what's left of your house in Malibu. He was afraid for you, Stark. In his mind you're one of his. Whatever you felt when you first realized you couldn't handle this alone was what he felt when he realized you didn't want his help."

Tony pulled a face. "That bad, huh?"

"Tell me about the armors," said Natasha.

Tony let out a short bark of laughter. "There you go again with the subtlety."

"Subtlety isn't part of my training."

Tony shook his head again, but she liked to think she knew him pretty well, and was proved right when he relented. "You can tell Fury he doesn't have to worry about me and my armors," he said. "They were all destroyed anyway." After one last moment of hesitation he finally gave up what Natasha had been waiting for. "You know, with Hammer, everyone let me off the hook for that last bit because I didn't have the armor. I'm not like the rest of you-I can't do much of anything without it." He swallowed. "Even when I do have it, it doesn't always feel like enough."

"So you thought that with an army of them, you'd be set," Natasha guessed.

"Something like that."

"But it didn't work out that way." She tilted her head to the side. "So what now?"

"I'm not sure yet." Tony faced the window. "But you can tell Rogers I learned my lesson, if you want. No more going it alone."

"Tell him yourself," said Natasha. "I'm not your secretary anymore."

Tony snorted, but he did smile as Natasha moved away. "I'll give your regards to Pepper," he said.

"Thanks."

Natasha slipped out. Sitwell was still in the hall, waiting, but there was no sign of Steve. It presented her with an opportunity. "Sitwell," she said, and he straightened up. For a moment she thought he was about to snap to military attention. "Where's my plus one?"

Sitwell relaxed a bit. "He didn't quite say, but he headed that way," he said, pointing down the hall.

"Help me find him, will you?"

Natasha started down the hall; Sitwell had no choice but to follow. He seemed to have figured out that his interrogation had begun, so she didn't keep him waiting. "Why didn't we have boots on the ground in Malibu after the first missile fired?"

"We did," Sitwell answered quickly. "Two dozen agents. The director said you and Rogers-"

"I'm talking about extraction, not clean-up," Natasha clarified. "Why wasn't Ms. Potts secured at the scene? My orders specified that she would be wrapped and waiting for me."

"I know, and it's kind of a funny story, but I'm afraid that if I tell you-"

"With a bow on, Sitwell."

Sitwell cleared his throat. "In debrief Potts told me that Agent Quincell provided her with a vehicle and designated a rendezvous point for her and Ms. Hanson. She thought you would be meeting her there."

"And Qunicell?" Natasha asked. She wasn't familiar with the name; there were only a handful of agents she regularly worked with.

"Said he got the order from Agent Umeda. Umeda says she gave that order before hearing you were on en route, and then issued revised orders after. She claims Quincell confirmed but he claims he never got them."

Natasha frowned, already planning how she would present the troubling news to Fury. "So either one or both of them are traitors, or they're just incompetent."

"They're with Hand, now," Sitwell said by way of consolation.

It helped, a little. "What about Stark? Don't even try to tell me ops couldn't track the armor out of Malibu." When Sitwell could only adjust his glasses and wince, Natasha rolled her eyes. "And I suppose the AIM modifications to the Iron Patriot rendered it untraceable, too." She stopped walking to face Sitwell properly. "What the hell happened here, Sitwell?"

Sitwell shook his head, at just as much of a loss as her. "I know, I know. I'm on it." He hesitated to say more, but when Natasha continued to stare at him, he gave it up. "But maybe we would have been on top of things if Stark had been more of a team player."

Natasha folded her arms. "Excuses," she said. "That's really what you're going with."

"Captain Rogers isn't always right," said Sitwell with a shrug. "But he is right, this time." Natasha stared back at him long enough to make him regret trying to be smart with her. "But you're right, too, of course; excuses are for amateurs," he amended. "We'll figure out where the balls were dropped and pick them back up."

"Good." Natasha continued on. "Keep me updated." Sitwell didn't follow.

Locating Steve wasn't difficult, since there were staff members around willing to gesture in the direction he had gone. He had found the administration offices and was hearing a full report of Pepper's condition from Dr. Wilcox. Natasha hung back, listening in, and was relieved when the doctor's assessment matched Tony's: Pepper wasn't in danger any longer and would be fine.

Once they were finished Natasha caught Steve's eye, and she wasn't surprised to see in him the same tired look Tony had fixed on her earlier. Without a word or signal she found them a private-ish hallway near the exit. "So," she said. "About keeping it together."

Steve sighed. "That's not how I wanted that to go," he admitted.

"But was it what you expected?"

"Maybe." He shook his head. "I just don't understand him."

"Well," said Natasha. "At least you can admit it."

Steve frowned at her. "I'm not sure I understand you, either. Whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of getting things done," Natasha said honestly. "The Mandarin has been a problem for us, and now it's handled. It could have been handled better, certainly, and we've got a lot of work ahead of us. But the President is all right, Pepper and Col. Rhodes are all right...so I can't complain too much about his end of things."

Steve continued to stare at her until it began to feel heavy; she shrugged. "I know how you feel," she said, "but it's no use asking Stark to not be Stark. We should be glad things turned out all right and move on."

"That's not good enough," said Steve. "There was so much at risk and he went off on his own, for what? So he could prove something to us and his ego? That's not how we do things."

"He's not a soldier, Rogers. You can't expect him to act like one."

Steve sighed with exasperation, but he stopped himself. Natasha wondered if there was something in her expression holding him back. "Then I guess I'm going to have to reevaluate my expectations."

Natasha lifted an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Steve took a moment before speaking. "I know that in the end, he means well," he said. "If he says he'll do something I know he will, but I don't trust him. Do you? Not his intentions, but his choices."

Natasha met his gaze, trying to decide which answer Steve was waiting for. It didn't particularly matter to her either way and sometimes it was easier giving Steve what he wanted. For once, he didn't make it easy on her. "He's gotten results," she said diplomatically. "But I can't always predict what he'll do. It's not easy to trust someone like that. Then again, that can be said about a lot of us."

"What do you mean?"

"Like you said, Stark means well but he's a loose cannon," said Natasha. "Thor is a prince on another world we have no way to contact. Banner's made progress with Hulk but even when in control he's more of a rainy day kind of asset. And I know you're fond of Parker, but a teenager isn't really my idea of dependable."

"And you and Barton?" asked Steve, though he didn't look eager to hear the answer.

Natasha shrugged. "We're spies."

"So what are you saying?"

"Director Fury brought us together to save the world, and we did," she said. "Maybe we'll do it again someday. But that doesn't make us a team. We might not ever be the team you want us to be."

"You mean, we'll never be the team I lost?" said Steve, eyeing her.

"You said it, not me."

Steve looked away. "I know," he said, in that heroic, heart-breaking way only Captain American could. "That's not what I'm asking of you. Any of you." He pushed his hand back through his hair and didn't seem to know how to finish putting his thoughts together. "I guess we're done here, then."

"Unless you want to hear Agent Sitwell's report," said Natasha. "But I don't think you do."

"No, I trust him to handle it." Steve led them out of the base, back toward the helipad. "Let's just get back to base so Director Fury can get his 'I told you sos' over with."

Natasha smirked; Steve was adjusting to life with SHIELD after all. But as they departed, she couldn't help the feeling that she should have let him in on Tony's brief confessions. She didn't, though. Counseling grown men simply wasn't in her job description.

When things landed at Stark Tower, people tweeted about it. When Tony Stark himself landed at Stark Tower three weeks after having risen from the dead to save the kidnapped president, Peter's phone almost exploded.

He was swinging the streets in Brooklyn when the first reports started coming in. Two purse-snatchers, a runaway cement mixer, and a toddler-wandering-into-traffic later, Peter was finally able to make his way back to Manhattan as fast as his webs would take him. Of course Tony would complete his resurrection only after winter break was finished, with a new semester biting down and five boroughs of grumpy, cabin-fevered New Yorkers demanding his attention. A decent hero would have made an appearance before everyone had used up all their vacation time glued to the news, waiting for any internet rumor or hastily snapped photo to prove Pepper's press releases true.

Tony was okay, and he was coming back to the tower.

Peter climbed onto the helipad and ran to the doors. As he peered through the glass he spotted Tony and Bruce inside, looking quite cozy reclined in Tony's expensive sofas. Tony was gesturing as he spoke, per usual, as Bruce winced at him fondly. Like nothing had happened. It made Peter want to give him hell, but of course, as soon as he was inside and Tony was looking up, that option fled his brain.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter all but leapt to Tony's side and skidded to a halt. He tugged his mask off. "Hey."

"Here it is," said Tony, gesturing to Peter as he shot Bruce a look. "This is it, isn't it? This is the reason you can't stay awake through a perfectly engaging conversation."

"It's not like that," said Bruce, red in his cheeks.

"I guess I can't blame you. I'm kind of exhausted just looking at him, I can't imagine trying to..." He glanced up and realized that Peter was still right at his arm. He seemed to chew through several facial expressions before settling on a kind of uneasy amusement. "Hey, Peter."

"Hey. Mr. Stark." Peter shifted back and forth; he didn't know what to do with himself, and when Bruce lifted his brows, he took it as cue to drop onto the sofa next to him. "Hey. Um. Hi."

Tony smirked at Bruce. "You seem to be having the same effect on him as he does you."

"Tony." Bruce was still mostly smiling, but his voice tipped more serious as he gave Peter's hand a squeeze. "We were worried."

"Yeah..." Tony squirmed like a little kid and finally sat up properly, facing the two of them. "I'm okay, Peter," he said. "Really. Sorry if I, you know. Freaked you out."

Peter finally got his words together. "'Freaked out' doesn't even begin to cover it," he said. "We watched your house get missiled into the ocean! Bruce almost Hulked out-I was this close to sedating him-and then the director was calling, asking if we knew where you were, because you weren't dead after all, and then the president went missing-"

Tony held up his hand. "I already got a lecture from Rogers, thanks."

"No, I mean, I just." Peter shook his head. "I'm just glad you're okay," he came to the point. He squeezed Bruce's hand tightly back. "I'm really glad. And I'm glad you're back-the tower just didn't feel right without you."

"Yeah, well..." Tony cleared his throat, trying not to look pleased. "We'll be sticking around for a while, at least, now that the Malibu property is toast. So no more partying in the penthouse for you two. Daddy's home."

"What about the lab?" Peter asked. "We kind of...expanded down there."

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "You what?"

"Is that Peter?" called a voice from the next room, and a moment later Pepper emerged, bundled up in an oversized sweater. When she saw Peter she grinned brightly, and Peter couldn't help but blush a little; he hadn't expected she would be so glad to see him. "Peter!" she said as she joined them. She looked him up and down. "You didn't really swing over here, did you? It is freezing out there!"

"Pepper is still running a little hot," said Tony.

She smacked his shoulder. "That is not funny."

"So, she hasn't changed at all," quipped Bruce, and though Tony was surprised by his uncharacteristic forwardness, he inclined his head approvingly.

"That's not funny, either," Pepper admonished despite her smile. She turned her attention back to Peter. "It's good to see you, Peter."

"You, too," Peter said quickly. "We only got part of the story from Director Fury, but...you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She took a seat next to Tony. "I'll fill you in over dinner, since I think Bruce already heard the gist of it from Tony. We can have something catered in, can't we? The food at that facility was just awful."

"Sure, but first." Tony glared at Bruce again. "You did what to my lab?"

Peter looked to Bruce, too, his toes wiggling excitedly. There was more than one reason he was glad Tony was finally back at the tower. "Can we show them?" he asked, giving Bruce's hand a shake as if that would convey exactly what he meant. "We can show them, right?"

Bruce hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I think...he'd like that."

They all moved down to the lab. Bruce and Peter had done a little rearranging along the west wall, clearing a broad open space with an array of sensors surrounding it. Tony made a face at the changes, but he wasn't fooling anyone; he was burning with curiosity. "So are you setting up a second home theatre in this cave or what?" he asked.

"We didn't want to disrupt my lab, since there are other people that use it during the day," said Bruce, moving to a locker against the wall. "And carting the equipment up to my suite wasn't really an option, either. I didn't think you'd mind."

"'Course I don't," said Tony. "Pick out new curtains while you're at it."

Bruce opened the locker and pulled out a pair of pants, which he brought over for Tony to inspect. The fabric was heavy and thickly textured, with many seams. "It's still fairly early in development," Bruce said as Tony tugged and stretched. "Peter and I have been experimenting with nanocellulose in combination with the same prepolymers used in the synthetic webbing we developed over the summer. It's heavier than I would like, but with some more refinements I think we can get the weight down without losing its elasticity."

"Right now the elasticity is the most important part," said Peter. "To, you know. Prevent accidents."

Pepper rubbed the ankle cuff between her fingers. "This is for you?" she asked, and then shook her head. "I mean, for...the other you?"

Tony showed a hint of a smile. "You're making yourself a uniform." He raised an eyebrow. "Purple, though?"

Bruce shrugged helplessly while Peter bounced on the balls of his feet. "It was Hulk's pick," said Peter. "He's the one that's going to be wearing it, after all."

Pepper glanced between them, surprised; Peter couldn't wait to see the look on her face. "Hulk's pick? You mean, you asked him?"

"Of course. Come on, Bruce." Peter continued to bounce happily. "Show'm."

"Guess I'll go change," said Bruce. He had a glimmer in his eye that Peter adored as he headed behind a line of cabinets. "Give me a minute."

Once he was out of view, Pepper leaned in close to Peter. "Is it safe?" she whispered.

"Totally. You guys have missed a lot since you've been gone." Peter faced them with full seriousness. "We practice with Hulk about once a week now. There haven't been any incidents-not major ones, anyway-and it's really improved Bruce's control and Hulk's focus and communication. Even Director Fury was impressed." Pride made him grin openly. "He's gonna be a full-fledged Avenger from now on, not just some last minute gamble. We're making sure of it."

Tony's eyes pinched with an unreadable expression. "Yeah, but..." He made a scratching motion toward his chin. "How do you feel about this?"

"Hate it," Peter said immediately. "It makes him look even older."

"Hey," Bruce called from the other side of the cabinets. "I can hear you."

"I've already said it to your face!"

"I think it's very handsome," said Pepper. "But I guess that's no surprise." She gave Tony's cheek a pat.

"I was going for distinguished," Bruce said as he rejoined them in only the experimental pants.

Tony snorted. "There is nothing 'distinguished' about what you're wearing right now."

"I know the outfit could use some development," said Bruce, crossing his arms over his chest self-consciously. "We tried making a shirt, but there is a limit to how far the material can stretch with its current makeup. And...Hulk kept ripping it off, anyway."

"It what 'Hulks' do, I guess," Tony joked.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Did you really just go there?"

"Should I not have? It was sitting right there."

"C'mon, Bruce," said Peter. He was bouncing again, unable to contain his anticipation. "Show them what you can do."

"All right, all right." Bruce waved at them. "Stand back."

All three took a step back as Bruce closed his eyes. Several deep breaths later his shoulders jerked, hunching, and his skin grew dark and stretched over his lengthening bones. Peter had seen it so many times; he watched Tony and Pepper instead, enjoying their shared looks of awe. There was some trepidation in Pepper's face as Hulk grew beneath their eyes, but Tony didn't waver. He was almost smug.

Within seconds Hulk was looming over them; as soon as the transformation was complete he crouched down to put them on a more even eye level. "Tony," he greeted, lips pulling wide in a grin. "Home."

Tony couldn't help but grin back. "Hey there, big guy."

"Oh my god," Pepper murmured, clinging to Tony's arm. Her knees wobbled a little.

"Oh yeah, that's right," said Tony. He supported her in a step forward. "You've never seen him up close and in person, huh?"

Hulk stretched his hand out, and though Pepper hesitated at first, she finally gave his finger a squeeze. "Pepper," he said. "Home."

"Y-Yeah." She beamed up at him like a child before a dinosaur. "Yes, thank you."

"Aha, I was wondering about this." Tony poked at the whiskers covering Hulk's chin. "Everything carries over, huh?"

Hulk's face screwed up. "Itchy," he complained. He grumbled and rubbed his hand across his beard. "Face grow, grow, beard. Too much face."

"Ah," said Peter, "he's trying to say-"

"I get it." Tony scratched under Hulk's chin as if he were a puppy, which Hulk allowed only a moment before shying away in embarrassment. "When he changes, his skin grows and expands faster than his hair can grow. Feels pretty weird, huh?"

"Say Bruce, smash it. Smash beard."

"Sure, I'll tease him into submission for you." Tony tilted his head. "Looks like the pants really do hold up, at least." Hulk allowed him to tug on the waistband. "Seem pretty durable, too. Have you done any environmental tests?"

"Well, they're waterproof," said Peter. "Doesn't lose their properties between -10 to 104 degrees Celsius. We haven't figured out how to go about making it fireproof yet."

Hulk nodded, his brow deeply furrowed. "Some boom."

Tony smirked. "Yeah, explosions are part of the job. I have some experience there, so I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out." He moved toward the workstation that controlled the array of cameras and sensors Bruce and Peter had set up. "Let's take a peek at what you've been up to."

Peter let them go, grinning almost ear to ear as Hulk pointed to the different video files he wanted Tony watch. When he looked to Pepper, it was gratifying all over again to see the open astonishment in her face. "It's really something," he said, "isn't it?"

"Peter, it's incredible. I didn't know he could be like this. He's calm, he's talking." She chuckled, watching Hulk stick his tongue out in concentration as he tapped something on the monitor as gently as he could. "Is it really Bruce in control now?"

"It's...kind of hard to explain." Even after all the efforts they'd made, Peter himself wasn't confident he could put it into words. "But the important thing is, it's working," he said. "It's almost like we broke through a wall, you know? Hulk is growing all the time, and Bruce is accepting him. It's so much better for him." Emotion made Peter's throat tight, but he pushed through it. "He's so much happier. It's almost unbelievable how good this has been for him."

"I believe it." Pepper smiled at him warmly. "You've really done wonders for him, Peter. But it couldn't have been easy for you. How are you doing?"

The question caught Peter off guard, and for a moment he couldn't answer, startled by the sudden pressure against his chest. "I'm okay," he said. He hadn't expected that it would feel so good to say. "It really was tough, for a while. There were times I thought I might be doing more harm than good, but...he's okay, and I'm okay. Things really are better than ever. Almost better than I thought they ever could be." He blushed. "Um, thank you. For asking."

"I'm happy for you," Pepper said. "I could see the difference in Bruce as soon as I saw him." She hesitated a moment and then added, "I hope it'll be just as good for Tony, being back here."

Peter glanced to her curiously; he couldn't tell if she was inviting him to ask what she meant. Tony seemed fine to him, but it wasn't as if he knew him that well... "What about you?" he asked instead. "We heard you were kidnapped for a while."

"Not just that." Pepper hesitated again, but another glance at Tony and Hulk showed they were deeply involved in their test data and not paying attention. "I don't know if you heard this part, but I had super powers for a while."

Peter straightened up. "Really? From the Extremis? What did you get-super strength? Fire-breathing?"

Pepper laughed, but there was something strained in her voice that quickly sobered Peter's enthusiasm. "Among other things," she said. "But really, it was..." She shuffled her feet. "It was frightening," she admitted at last. "Exciting, at some points, but really frightening. Like it wasn't my body anymore." She faced Peter seriously. "I have a new respect for you, Peter. You, and Bruce, and Steve... I only had a taste of what it must be like to do what you do every day. You're all really something."

"Yeah, but what you do, you run this whole giant company, and..." Peter shook himself. "I mean, thanks, I appreciate that. But you're really awesome, too."

Peter blushed when he realized how he sounded, congratulating a billionaire CEO on her awesomeness, but Pepper laughed. "Oh, I know," she said. "Thanks, Peter."

"Have you clocked him yet?" Tony asked.

Both of them jumped, and they shared a smile. "What?" asked Peter.

"Have you clocked him?" Tony jerked his thumb toward Hulk. "I see you've done some strength tests but what about how fast he is?"

"Oh-no, not yet. We'd need to get out of the lab for that."

"Hulk very fast," Hulk said.

"I don't doubt it, big guy." Tony closed the window he'd been scrolling through and turned back to Pepper and Peter. "Maybe we can get Fury to clear an airfield for us and get some accurate data. How fast he is, how far he can jump. Interesting stuff to have, right?"

Hulk puffed his cheeks mightily. "Fun."

"In the meantime, I think I'll order us some dinner," said Pepper. "You boys have fun, and I'll call you up when it's here."

"Yeah, sure," said Tony. "Thanks, Pepper." As Pepper left, Tony waved for Peter to come closer. "C'mere, Parker. Hulk's already shown me a few things, but I want to hear it from you, too. Show me what you've been working on."

"Sure!" Peter hurried over on light feet. This will be good for him, he thought, glancing behind him just in time to catch Pepper smiling back at him. For both of them, for Bruce, for me. Excitement gave him goose bumps. For the Avengers. Everything is going to get even better.