A/N: Prompted by Musekicker on Tumblr.

Bruce walks into the central lab at Stark Tower with a box in his arms. "Package came for you," he says with a smile, his glasses slipping down his nose. He sets it down on the nearest worktable and pushes the lenses up after brushing form sweat from the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, goody!" Tony says with a smirk. "Please tell me it's that titanium alloy I ordered the other day."

"Nope," Bruce says as he points to the address. "I don't think titanium alloy comes from an apartment in Manhattan."

"Damn," Tony says. He sighs and pops open the package with a flourish of a nearby flathead screwdriver. He Finds a card lying atop some packing foam. He frowns at it, tears it open, and Bruce reads over his shoulder.

"'Deer Mr. Stark,'" Bruce reads with a growing smile, enunciating the words that are misspelled, "'My Daddy works 4 you and says you can fix my Easy-Bake Oven. Culd you pleez try and I can make you a cake with it to say thank-you? Love Allison, age six.' –There's even a little smiley face inside of a heart. Aww, Tony, can we fix it for her? She sounds like such a sweet girl, and I'm sure, between the two of us, we can improve it tenfold for her."

"Why would I want to?" Tony scoffs, tossing the letter aside. "I don't have time to fuck around with a child's toy. We're on a schedule, you know. A Fury-and-S.H.I.E.L.D.-oriented schedule, and need I remind you, Dr. Banner, how much Fury scares me with his dark-pirate charades." He punctuates this with a slamming down of the visor on his head. He steps over to another table and picks up a small welding tool and goes about firing at the tiny homing device held aloft in front of him, a little bug-like thing meant to walk, fly, and track people without being noticed. He got the idea from a cartoon.

Bruce shrugs off his mocked degree and unbuttons the first button on his dress shirt. He lifts out the broken toy and removes the foam from around it, setting the small oven on the table. "Fine, if you won't do it, I will. I like these little things; there was a girl in my neighborhood while growing up who had one, and I think she liked me, because she would always bake me brownies and cookies with it. We would sit down in her backyard and eat them together on her swing set."

"…That's adorable and all, Bruce, but now you're just trying to make me jealous," Tony pouts, glancing over his shoulder at the other man. He sighs, sets down the welding tool, and casts off his visor. "And it's working. Fine, fine; I'm coming over to play house with you." He down a little turn and takes two long strides back to his work partner. "What have we got, here?"

"Older, more vintage model that still uses a light bulb and resembles a conventional oven more then the microwave-looking ones they make now," Bruce observes, turning the toy around in his hands. "Which might be part of the problem, why it broke. It's old. It needs an upgrade."

Tony smirks. "We can definitely do that. Although, do you think, if we made it a robot that could assemble the batter and shoot out cakes by itself, it would take away the fun of the toy for the little girl?"

"Yeah, I imagine that would defeat the purpose, Tony," Bruce scolds as he gives Tony a shove with his shoulder. "Let's think of what else we can do."

"Well, the current models have a heating element a bit like a tuned-down toaster. We could add that, and give it a chord for an electric power source. Redesign the outsides to look like a microwave. Bam, done. Kid has a new toy."

"Yes, but she loves this one. She's used to seeing this one. We don't want to fix it to make it look like we just sent her a new one. She might feel sad, like you couldn't fix the one she had."

Tony grunts. "Yeah, okay, fine. I see your point. But What should we do to it, then?"

"Nothing that makes it fly or shoot lasers, thank you. This is a little girl's toy," Bruce says, very defensive of keeping the toy traditional, it seems. How boring.

"Oh, come on, let me at least make it bigger or stronger, so she can bake, like, ten cakes at once. That would be fantastic. She'd love that. Please? Oh, pretty please, Brucie?" Tony says with his hands clasped together under his chin, his head cocked to the side, batting his eyelashes up at the scientist.

Bruce laughs heartily and turns back to the toy to keep from playfully smacking Tony in the arm. "Don't call me that, or I might get a little too angry," he jokes, and Tony feigns a gasp.

"Heaven forbid that happen when we're not out fighting monsters from other realms!" Tony exclaims, picking up a screwdriver and helping Bruce dismantle the toy. They won't need a blueprint or instruction manual to put it back together, either.

"The Other Guy might make a mess in your pretty lab, though." Bruce reminds. He runs a hand through his slightly waved, dark and graying hair. He sets aside the decorative outer shell and goes about inspecting the insides, removing the working light bulb and peering in and around it, looking for a shortage of some sort. "It's a bit junked up, and could use a good cleaning, actually. There is corrosion all around where the light bulb screws in, and some of this metal is rusted."

"Then let's get cleaning," Tony grins.

#

Thirty minutes later, everything is polished, some of the pieces have been replaced with scraps in better working condition, and a higher wattage of light bulb put in to make it cook the little desserts quicker.

It's twice the size, but still relatively designed in a retro-futuristic style on the outside, and it looks perfect, "Like a sort of Easy-Bake 2.0," Tony remarks as he admires it.

Bruce feels Tony put his arm around his shoulders, and he folds his arms and leans into the touch. "Hmm, I think it requires a test-run, just to make sure."

"…You really do want to play house with me," Tony laughs. "I should have known." He leans off of the other man and moves swiftly to put on his jacket and head for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Bruce calls out.

"To buy some of those little packets, of course! We're baking, Brucie," he hollers as the metal doors glide shut.

#

"The Toys 'R' Us I had Jarvis find for me had basically every single treat known to man, and a few only known to Barbie dolls. I bought them all three of each one, as well as two of every accessory. We should make sure everything is compatible with our improvements. So one set of accessories and one set of bakes goods in powder form is for us, and the rest can be a gift to little Allison. She'll be baking until she's twenty," Tony says immediately when the elevator doors open, and he comes in three boxes on a wheeled carrier.

"You went all out for someone who didn't want to bother in the first place," Bruce muses as he helps Tony unload the first box, the one with all their supplies in it.

"What can I say? I get easily attached to projects, no matter how insignificant they are," Tony shrugs.

"Right. Sure. And it has nothing to do with helping a sweet little girl of one of your employees."

"God, no. I hate kids," the billionaire replies incredulously. "How dare you think otherwise, Bruce. You should be ashamed."

Bruce chuckles and mixes some of the powder with a bit of water from his water bottle. He dumps it into a miniature cupcake tray and slides it in the little oven, setting the small timer they built into it, watching the light bulb through the peeking window, the vanilla batter bubbling and rising and firming within minutes. He makes some chocolate frosting in the meantime.

Tony, meanwhile, is sliding in a set of heart-shaped brownies and watching them inflate as well.

"You know, it's a girly toy, but I kind of wish my dad had bought me one. He bought me just about every other thing at the time, to keep me preoccupied, but I didn't have one of these. Too bad; I could have fed myself so no one else would have to had bothered," he says simply.

Without warning, one of the brownies burst a bubble and splat on the inside, causing smoke to rise.

"Well, that's not good," Bruce remarks, oddly calm.

"Shit. Something must have gotten into my batter somehow. We are around highly flammable chemicals and things."

A fire starts up, smoking and rumbling as the improved Easy-Bake trembles as it malfunctions.

"Duck and cover!" Tony calls out as he jumps onto Bruce and tackles him to the floor.

There is a loud ping as the time goes off, followed by a miniature implosion.

Tony pretends he doesn't want to stay on top of warm, solid Bruce as he brings himself to his feet and offers a hand to lift the man up. "Oops. Might have miscalculated the light bulb wattage to the space we left inside there. It got too cramped with heat and burst, and who knows what accidentally fell in that brownie."

"Not pot, I hope. Although that wouldn't explode," Bruce jokes meekly. He rubs between his eyes and looks at the mess. "Now we have to start over again."

"Hmm, um, not completely," Tony considers as he waves away smoke, Dummy lifting an arm to douse the toy with fire extinguisher, but Tony snaps at the little robot, "Hey, none of that! You'll ruin the toy!"

Dummy sags, defeated, and Bruce pities it. "Aw, don't be mean to it because you miscalculated."

"Me? You're here, too! Why didn't you correct me?"

"I'm not as much of an engineer as you. How could I have noticed? Besides, it's your damn lab with all its chemicals that infected your treat and made it blow up," Bruce frowns, straining to keep his stress level in control when Tony is being impossible.

"Okay, touché, but will you help me fix this again? Do it right this time?" Tony requests with one of his manipulative smiles, yes, but one that Bruce can't refuse even if he tries.

He sighs. "Fine. But let's keep it closer to the original so it doesn't have any further mishaps, and doesn't break when the girl uses it," Bruce warns.

"You have my word," Tony says with a hand over his heart.

They work for another hour, cleaning and remodeling until it looks closer to has it did when it arrived, but repainted pinks and purples and blues, and looking good as new and functioning flawlessly.

They make a few snacks for themselves, and Pepper comes in and snags a few for herself, smiling and shaking her head in an, "Oh, you boys," sort of manner.

They mail the toy and its new and varied accessories and food packets back to the little girl and have a sit together on a small couch in the back of the lab. Tony takes out some brandy and pours a tumbler for himself and for Bruce. They recline back at the same time with a sigh in unison.

"Well, that was a productive day. Not what we were supposed to do, but that means we'll simply have to work twice as hard tomorrow," Tony comments idly as he slurps his alcohol. He hums, "Mm. But. We did have fun, I'll admit that."

Bruce smiles. "Yeah, we did. Here's to fun and a job well done," he says, offering his tumbler for a clink.

Their glasses meet, and they each take a sip. "Cheers."