It was the worst moment of his day.

"This is the worst moment of my day," he whispered to Peter, or at least that's what he would have done had May – as she had asked Tony to call her – not chosen just that moment to close the kitchen cabinet with a loud bang after taking an oven mitten out of it. As it happened, she did choose that moment to bang the cabinet closed and Tony and Peter both flinched at the sound, Peter focusing the gaze of his widened eyes on his empty plate while Tony snapped his mouth shut, sulking just the bit but also feeling the weight of guilt in his stomach.

"You could've just told me, you know," May said softly with her back to the table, opening the oven and reaching in with the oven mitten in hand to get the salmon out. The scent of cooked salmon, perfectly greasy and covered with white cream and chopped onions, filled the air and Tony's stomach couldn't stop growling at it. To be fair, he hadn't eaten since breakfast so it was understandable that he was hungry.

It was still Monday, right? Tony glanced at his phone subtly under the table: Wednesday, 6 PM.

Huh.

Well, no wonder he was hungry. It had, in any case, been nice of the Parkers to invite him for dinner. Tony smiled to himself and looked around in the kitchen.

It was one of the smallest kitchens Tony had ever been to, but the more he looked at it, the more charming he found it all- the rustic interior with slight cracks here and there on the walls to indicate all the places where there had once been a screw or a nail for one reason or another, the family photos of Peter and May smiling together on the fridge door, the spice cans above the oven... The kitchen looked like there was a family using it, like it was the heart of a home, and Tony felt... well, he felt so touched and honoured and, yes, nervous to have been invited into the heart of their home like this, to share a meal with them, that he hadn't even asked why the table had been set in the kitchen and not in the dining hall (he of course knew in theory that there were no dining halls at the Parkers' home, but somehow he still assumed there had to be because his childhood home had had several and Peter was still sort of a kid so naturally there should have been at least one dining hall in Peter's childhood home as well).

"I'm an adult – I could have taken it," May was saying and Tony slipped the phone back into his pocket. "You should've told me the truth. Keeping the truth is as bad as lying."

"We're sorry," Peter said quickly, looking up from his plate, first at his aunt, then imploringly at Tony who wiped the smile off his face so he wouldn't come across as rude. He didn't want to be rude. He was rarely invited to anyone's home and he didn't want to be rude, not here, not to the Parkers. "We really are. Aren't we, Mr. Stark?"

"Sure," Tony hastened to agree. "That's what we are – sorry. No man in this wonderful kitchen has ever been as sorry as Peter and I are right at this moment."

He made a waving motion at the kitchen in general just in case it wasn't quite clear to which kitchen he was referring, and then at himself and Peter so no room was left to question which Tony and Peter were the ones feeling sorry.

All the gesturing was in vain, though, as May had turned her back to them and hadn't therefore seen the effort Tony had made to express the depth of their regret. Instead, she began to grate carrots furiously, her narrow shoulders visibly stiffened, and Tony felt the guilt in his stomach gaining more weight at the sight.

"Do you know who it was that told me the truth?" May asked over the sound of the grating, her dark ponytail bouncing from side to side. "I had to hear it from Teresa Smith-Cunningham. Can you believe that? Teresa Smith-Cunningham!"

Tony could hear Peter gulping.

"Yes, Peter," seethed May who had apparently heard it too. "It was Teresa Smith-Cunningham who told me the truth! I had to hear it from her, of all people. Of all people, I had to hear it from Teresa!"

"Sorry …" Peter mumbled to the table, but May ignored the mumbled apology. Instead, she addressed his next words to Tony.

"Do you know who Teresa Smith-Cunningham is, Tony?"

People usually didn't expect him to remember people – and foor good reason, was fair to add, and Tony really wasn't sure if May earnestly expected him to know the answer to the question or if she was just asking to make a point (Pepper had sometimes asked questions to make a point and Tony hadn't then known what to answer either) but Tony, as the sorriest man ever to have been sorry in May's kitchen, was determined to not disappoint her again, and therefore he wracked his brain just as furiously as May was grating the carrots.

Despite of his efforts, he could nevertheless only think of one Teresa, and while that Teresa was unlikely to be the Teresa of whom May was thinking, it was all he got, and so he had to go with,

"Mother Teresa?"

The grating stopped and Peter let out a strangled sound, sinking deeper into his chair, almost disappearing under the table. May gave Tony a sharp look over her shoulder.

"Mother Teresa?" she repeated, turning towards the table with a hand on her hip, studying Tony with narrowed eyes. "Are you making fun of me, Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked, caught off guard both by the accusation and by the unexpected use of his surname. She always called him Tony and he always called her May and they both always called Peter Peter, except sometimes Tony called Peter other things, but it wasn't like May knew about that, and that wasn't the point, as the point was that she was supposed to call him Tony, not "Mr. Stark" because that was the arrangement that suited them.

And Tony hadn't been making fun of her in the slightest! He had been earnest and sincere. The perfect example of earnestness and sincerity if there ever had been one, really, now that he thought about it, so how had she even come to such a conclusion?

Slightly offended by the false accusation but not willing to show it, Tony gave Peter a glance only to see that the boy was still half under the table trying to hide – so much for getting help from that direction.

Sighing to himself, Tony cleared his throat, meeting May's gaze.

"Sorry. Again," he said, trying to sound just as earnest and sincere as he was. "Should it be 'Aunt Teresa'?"

Peter groaned and hid his face in his hands, while May continued to stare at Tony, the suspicion on her face giving gradually way first to incredulity, then – much to Tony's bewilderment – amusement.

"Mother Teresa died in the 1990's, Tony," she said, looking suddenly almost fond, before the gentle sparkle in her eyes turned into a glint of anger and her cheeks flushed. "And Teresa Smith-Cunningham is as much of a Mother Teresa as I am a pink fluffy bunny!"

She twirled around and soon the sound of furious grating filled the small kitchen again. Tony did his best to not think of her in a sexy pink bunny costume because, yes, inappropriate! She was an aunt, for god's sake, and speaking of gods - mused Tony's brain, always quick to jump from one unrelated thing to another - one had to wonder what Thor had been up to recently because he hadn't been around since before…

Since before Siberia. Since before it all had gone to hell. Since before Tony had lost a considerable amount of friends – or rather, people he had thought were his friends, but who hadn't seemed to return the sentiment when it had all come down to it.

Tony felt his heart sink just as he always did when the events of the past two months unavoidably came to his mind. Not fully aware of what he was doing, his hand sneaked up to rub at his chest where he could still almost feel the impact of the shield.

Steve's weight on top of him, pressing him down. The cool calculation in Steve's eyes as he met Tony's gaze, raising the shield. The impact against Tony's chest, the impact that broke the Arc Reactor, the heart of his suit. Steve forcing Tony down, leaving him broken on the freezing cold ground, and then offering his warm hand to pull Barnes up to his feet.

The betrayal that broke their friendship and Tony's heart – if either one ever had existed.

"Teresa Smith-Cunningham," said May, cutting off Tony's dark thoughts, "is the mother of Maximillian Smith-Cunningham who is one of Peter's classmates. She's such a horrid woman, I hate to say. She is spiteful and malicious and always gossiping in the most mean-spirited manner. To hear the truth from her, of all people, in front of all the other moms… Can you imagine how humiliating it was for me?"

Tony cast a helpless look at Peter who was still hiding his face behind his hands, his neck almost as red as May's apron, but as no help was coming and as Tony didn't know what he was expected to say, he said nothing.

"She," continued May as if she hadn't been expecting Tony to say anything after all, "she had made these chocolate brownies for today's school fair. The frosting was… Well, it looked delicious and she had put colorful Smarties on top of the brownies. People loved them, they were sold out in half an hour, and I was selling my cookies next to her stall and no-one – no-one, not even the janitor who eats anything – wanted them and that's when Teresa Smith-Cunningham turned to smirk at me in her infuriating manner and told me that avocado-filled oatmeal cookies with raisins on top did not seem to be 'as popular as I seemed to think' they were."

May dropped the grater into the sink, causing Peter with his spider senses to flinch at the sudden sound. She gathered the grated carrots into a glass bowl and put the bowl in the middle of the table, right next to the salmon.

"That's how I found out that you two had been lying to me when you pretended to like my avocado-filled oatmeal cookies with raisins on top," she said, sounding betrayed, and crossed her arms on her chest. "Would it have been too much to ask that you had been honest with me?"

"We shouldn't have lied to you, Aunt May," Peter said, visibly chastised, peeking at May through his fingers. "But you see, we didn't mean anything bad by it – we were just trying to spare your feelings."

And that. That right there. That. Was. Not. A good enough justification for anything ever anymore.

"Fuck!" the curse bursted out before Tony was even fully aware of it, and he received two equally startled looks, both laced with disapproval.

"Kindly do not swear around Peter, Tony," said May just as Peter pleaded, "Mr. Stark – don't swear where Aunt May can hear you!"

"Sorry," said Tony to them both, clenching his fists, "but you are absolutely right, May – we should have been honest with you about the cookies. We were trying to spare your feelings, but you just ended up twice as hurt and humiliated because of that. We were shortsighted."

Peter and May were both staring at him and suddenly Tony felt terribly self-conscious. His palms were beginning to sweat and he hastily continued to explain just in case he hadn't made any sense because he was well aware that sometimes he didn't – make sense, that was – but he wasn't sure if this was one of those times:

"I should invent glasses for people who are similarly shortsighted. Or I would, but I probably couldn't because I'm not good at thinking things fully through – poor attention span, they say, and absolutely terrible impulse control, I know – and that would be a requirement if I ever wanted to invent glasses for people who are bad at thinking things through – or perhaps I could turn that into an advantage because I would at least understand the problem – but just because the glasses are not one of my current projects doesn't mean I'm not sorry because I am, and Peter is too, and even though you can't bake good cookies, May, you are a good aunt in many other ways, more important ways – I'm sure Peter agrees with that – and more to the point, everyone needs a flaw– I've got plenty of those, like, loads, as you must know if you've ever even glanced at the news – and it's just as well that your only flaw is the inability to bake good cookies."

"And I'll buy all your avocado-filled oatmeal cookies with raisins on top!" he promised vehemently. "I'll buy them all and you can tell this Aunt Teresa that she can go stick the brownies up the same place where all her other crap is coming from! Or I can have one of my STARRkY SKY aircrafts write that on the sky, if you'd rather. Just give me her address and we can get it done today right above her house."

Tony had his Stark phone in his hand before he had finished talking and he was now looking down at it, already typing commands for FRIDAY to get the planes prepared for flying.

A slender finger came to his view and May tapped the screen until it was turned off.

"No need for that, Tony," May said with a faint smile on her lips. "But… thank you. I appreciate the sentiment."

Even though she was smiling, her eyes were concerned, as if she was understanding more than she was letting on. Tony looked away, unable to meet the searching gaze for longer.

"We really are sorry, Aunt May," said Peter to the silence that fell in the kitchen.

May sighed and went to the sink to rinse the grater and the chopping board.

"Yes, well," she said. "I forgive you both, but rest assured that I won't give up until I have baked the kind of cookies that you both can honestly say you like. I won't let Teresa Smith-Cunningham deflate my baking spirit."

Tony exchanged an apprehensive look with Peter.

They sat down to enjoy mashed potatoes, salmon and grated carrots – the most satisfying dinner Tony had had all week – but afterwards, when Tony thanked for the meal and prepared to leave, he happened to take a glance at the grocery list May had placed on the phone table by the front door.

For the cookies:
Coconut, Cottage Cheese, Eggs, Lima Beans, More Raisins

Tony looked from the list at May's smiling face.

It was the second worst moment of Tony's day.

Or so he thought.

It wasn't like he could have yet known that The Salivating Scorpions were coming for him. After all, he didn't yet even know of their existence.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

I like the idea of Tony and Peter's friendship/mentorship. The idea for this fic stems from that and I hope you've enjoyed this first chapter. If you'd like to see more chapters, please leave a review or PM me just so I know there's someone reading.