Nick Fury had been expecting this, but he'd silently hoped it would take longer. No such luck. He knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw the lights in his kitchen window were turned on.

Granted, he first thought it was Hydra in his house, but then he'd crept in, only to find Tony Stark at the small dining table, fingers flying across a laptop, his ring glinting where it caught the light.

"Stark," he grunted. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The man didn't look at him, just waved a hand in a gesture to sit. Now, normally, Nick would have demanded his attention and gotten his answers, but something stopped him from doing that this time. Maybe it was the way Stark hadn't cracked a single joke yet, or simply the knowledge of what Nick had done to deserve the silent treatment.

Either way, he wasn't a stupid man and therefore, he did as told.

After a few minutes, Stark looked up and Nick blinked in controlled surprise at the cold anger in his eyes. "You've got a whole agency full of top-notch spies," he started. "You've got a team of superheroes on speed dial including me and even that Strange man and Loki and Thor."

"Your point?" Nick asked, though he already knew.

"And yet, you had the fucking audacity to hijack a kid's summer vacation, tranq his friend, and recruit him to fight a bunch of nature weirdos with no reliable backup?" Stark's tone was quiet, but low and trembling with unchecked rage.

"There was a new player aiding Parker," Nick explained. "Called himself Mysterio."

"That's what I said," he snapped. "No reliable backup. What if he'd been a bad guy, too, hmm? The kid's too trusting as it is, and you let him team up with a guy nobody knows anything about?!"

"I didn't have any other choice!"

"Is that really the best excuse you can come up with?" Stark growled. One hand rose up to finger the edge of his arc reactor and Nick felt a trickle of fear. The movement was a very subtle reminder of who he was dealing with: Tony Stark, Merchant of Death. Domesticity didn't soften him to people he viewed as enemies. Right now, Nick was on that list.

"Stark, be reasonable-" he began to say.

Stark cut him off with the simple act of getting to his feet. Instinctively, his hand went to his gun, though he knew there was no way he could even draw it fast enough to save himself, should Stark ultimately decide to attack him.

The genius didn't miss his movement, and an amused smirk quirked over his mouth. "You know better than to try that, Nicky," he drawled softly and again-there was that pinprick of fear and panic, knowing this man could kill him in a heartbeat if he so wanted.

"Get out of my house, Stark," he ordered, hiding the quiver in his hands.

"SHIELD has only just started up, Director," Stark reminded, heading towards the door. "You come near my kid again, I'll be the one burn it back down, and this time I'll make sure it stays burned."

Peter looked up from Morgan as his dad entered the room with Pepper, both of them whispering and laughing quietly. He smiled to himself, glad that Mr Stark was finally truly happy after such a long time.

"Underoos, come up with me for a few minutes, will ya?" Mr Stark said.

Peter leapt to his feet immediately. Morgan barely noticed him leaving, his four-year old mind focused on the bright crayons. Peter followed Tony up to the balcony.

"What's up, dad?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Tony sighed. "Look, I know we've already talked about your 'vacation'-"

"Could you please stop saying it that way? I can hear the air quotes-"

"But this bears repeating. Nick Fury is not a man you want to get tangled with. He'll hold any debt over your head like a guillotine and he won't let-"

"Dad?"

He stumbled to a stop.

Peter reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't call you," he said softly. That's what this was about: that Tony hadn't been there to keep him safe. Any self-respecting teenager would have bristled at that, but Peter had woken up from nightmares to frantically dial Tony's cell just to hear his voice and make sure he was alright too many times to be upset about Tony's hovering. Like father, like son. "I just really wanted you to enjoy your vacation."

"And I wanted you to enjoy yours," Tony shot back. But then he sighed, running a hand through thick hair, lingering at the new stands of grey he knew had appeared. "Promise me you'll stay safe, Peter," he pleaded. "I won't always be around to make sure of it."

Ignoring the last sentence, Peter said firmly, "As safe as I can be. With the kind of life we lead."

"That'll have to do," Tony mumbled. "You and I are going on a proper vacation as soon as possible."

"Really?! Where?"

"I was thinking-"

"Not Europe!"

"... India?"

"Sounds cool. By the way, thanks for not freaking out on Mr Fury. I was afraid you were gonna go and threaten him or something like that."

"..."

"Dad?"