BABY TONY STARK WHY U SO CUTE KAS;FLKIDJGA;LSF;SALSA;DKGJ

"You sure you're going to go through with this?" Steve asked, looking over Alfred's shoulder, making a worried face as he looked at the man's filled-out forms, all full of falsified information.

"I gotta," Alfred replied, closing the folder in his hands to look up at the taller man, already donning his military uniform. "Mattie and Ma need me, Steve," he sighed wistfully, looking down at the forms with pride brimming in his eyes. "My Pop died serving the country. It's what he would have wanted of me."

Steve bit his lip, and patted the smaller blonde's shoulder.

"You're a good kid, Al," he said, "But you're… not really…" he trailed off, unsure on what to say.

"Oh, come on," Alfred grinned, elbowing the taller man. "Work with me, pal, I gotta get in the army!"

Steve sighed, and nodded, defeated. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He said, before gesturing for Alfred to follow him inside, into the enlistment centre.

"Arrhythmia, asthma, slight muscle atrophy," the inspector listed down dryly, eyeing Alfred sceptically. "I'm not even going to go through this. You sure you have clearance for this?" he asked, as Alfred bounced in his seat, waiting for the man to give him his verdict. The blonde nodded quickly, and the doctor looked sceptical.

"… Right." He nodded slowly, before turning his attention back to the papers. Alfred swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for the man to finish reading over his medical records. "Look, son, you—" he stopped talking, sighing, before shaking his head. "Look, we can't send you in there. You just don't have the proper… health for it."

"What?" Alfred gasped, standing up. "Th-that's not fair! I'm just as okay as the other guy next door!"

"Not exactly," the man shook his head, before handing him his papers back. "I'm sorry, but no, it just won't happen."

Gritting his teeth, Alfred fought back the angry tears that attempted to spill from his eyes, his throat clenching painfully as his eyes started to heat up. Nodding, he sharply turned on his heel and walked out of the enlistment centre, where Steve was standing, waiting for him.

"… Not good?" he asked, and Alfred shook his head. His friend sighed and patted his head, stroking his hair fondly. "It's okay," he gently said, and Alfred took his hand and took it off his head, shaking it as he sighed.

"No, no it's not, Steve," he said, "Not like this."

Steve sighed, and he shook his head fondly, before wrapping his arm around Alfred's shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly.

"Tell you what," he said, "Stark's got an exhibition of future technologies tonight and I got an invite. Want to come with me?" he smiled, knowing how much technology excited his best friend. A smile crossed Alfred's face—it was tired, slightly strained, but Steve knew it was as honest as it could get, in light of the circumstances they were in.

"Yeah," Alfred nodded, and Steve grinned.

"Great. I'll see you tonight then. Feel better, okay, buddy?" he asked, ruffling Alfred's hair and the blonde nodded dejectedly. "I gotta go, Bucky's calling me," he chuckled, "Take care, okay?"

"Yep," Alfred nodded, before weakly waving at Steve as he walked away.

Left alone on the streets of New York City, Alfred watched the taller blonde walk away to meet up with his friends in arms, shoulders slumping.

Why can't I be like them? Am I not man enough?

He walked away, kicking his feet along, dragging them across the ground, sending small rocks and pebbles rolling away as he did so, looking down at the ground, disappointment running through him thick and burning, bringing back hot tears back to his eyes as he walked. Biting down on his lip to keep them from falling, Alfred's free hand balled into a fist as he walked into an alleyway—before he let out a growl of frustration, punching the wall as hard as he could.

Wincing, he pulled away, gasping as the pain from the punch recoiled through his arm. His knuckles were bleeding but he didn't care. He was too angry, too disappointed to care.

What was it he was doing wrong? All he wanted was to follow in his father's footsteps.

Was that such a sin?

Later that evening, Steve had come to meet Alfred at the local bar, smiling brightly, as by his side was a pretty young woman. He introduced her to Alfred as Peggy Carter, a British agent he had met while he was on the field.

Feeling out of place and like a third wheel, Alfred lagged behind the two, hands shoved in his pockets as he walked, looking around at the inventions as he pointedly kept himself from eavesdropping on Steve and Peggy.

"Steve!" an unfamiliar voice called, and even Alfred lifted his head to see Howard Stark himself approaching them, a glass of champagne in one hand and his other holding the hand of a little boy that was peering out at them from behind his pants. "It's so good to see you!" he smiled brightly, letting go of the boy's hand to shake Steve's hand. The boy hid further behind the man's leg, and Alfred found himself stepping forward and leaning down to look at the boy in the eye.

"Hey there, little guy," he gently greeted, keeping his gaze kind as he offered his hand to the little boy. "My name's Alfred. What's yours?"

"Oh, hello," Peggy spoke up beside him, and Alfred turned his head to see that even Peggy had bent down to address the boy whilst Stark and Steve talked. "You're a lovely little darling, hello." She smiled, and Alfred found himself smiling.

"Ma'am," he nodded in greeting, and she turned to face him. She nodded curtly at him.

"Jones," she replied in acknowledgement, and the two of them returned their attention to the little boy now slowly inching out from behind Stark's pant leg.

"Hey there," Alfred tried again, holding out his hand, his smile gentle as he softly gestured for the boy to take his hand. "What's your name, kid?"

"… I'm Tony." The boy mumbled, gingerly taking Alfred's hand, and the man smiled gently as the boy's small fingers curled around his.

"Hello, Tony." Peggy smiled, reaching forward to stroke the boy's black hair. "My name is Peggy."

"Miss… Peggy." Tony repeated, and the woman nodded. "And… you're Mr. Alfred?"

"Al is fine," Alfred smiled, "Is Mr. Stark your daddy?"

"Mhm." Tony nodded, and Peggy and Alfred's smiles grew a little wider at how cute the little boy was. "I-is that man Mr. R-Rogers?"

"Why, yes, darling," Peggy nodded, "You know Mr. Rogers?"

"I-I heard he was doing awesome stuff in the war, l-like, there was one time," Tony took a deep breath, cheeks puffing red, "They said, he took down this entire base, like it was huuuge!" the little boy waved his arms, removing his grip from Alfred's hand and his father's pants to emphasize his point, and Peggy and Alfred chuckled, nodding for the little boy to continue his story. "And, and, he was a hero! H-he saved a lot of people an' stuff."

"Do you want to be a soldier someday, Tony?" Alfred asked, smiling slightly, and the boy nodded wildly.

"Yeah! I wanna be like Mr. Rogers!"

Steve and Howard had heard the boy's shout, and a sheepish smile spread across Steve's face, as Howard's grin widened. The man patted his son's back and gently pushed him forward in Steve's direction as Alfred and Peggy straightened up.

"This is my son, Tony." He introduced to the man, grinning. "Come on, Tony, go say hi. Didn't you say you wanted to be like him?"

Blushing, the boy just hid his face behind his father's pant leg again, and the blonde soldier laughed softly, kneeling down and ruffling Tony's hair. "Hey there, little guy." He greeted.

"H-hello, Mr. Rogers." The boy mumbled, before hiding again. He turned his head to look around, and when his eyes met Alfred's, the man spread his arms, and the boy ran towards him, hiding behind his leg this time.

The four with him laughed fondly, and Howard shook his head.

"Kids. They're so cute." He chuckled, "Well, I gotta go," he gave Steve and Peggy a mock salute and a nod to Alfred. "It was nice talking to you again, Rogers. Take care of my son while I'm gone." He said, before walking away.

"Well, it seems little Tony's taken a liking to you, Al," Steve smiled, and the blonde chuckled, patting the boy's head as he determinedly hid behind Alfred, staring up at Steve like he was a monument to be ogled. "Think you can hang onto him?"

"Don't mind me," Alfred chuckled, "You enjoy the night with Miss Carter." He nodded at the woman, who chuckled lightly, before wrapping her arm around Steve's. The blonde soldier nodded at Alfred, and together, they walked away. Smiling down at Tony, Alfred sighed.

"So, buddy, it's just you and me now. Where do you want to go?"

"I wanna en… enlist," the boy struggled to say the word, but he had managed. Alfred's eyes widened.

"H-hey, you can't, you're just a kid." He said, bending down to look Tony in the eye.

"But so are you!" Tony protested, "Why can't I go?"

"Oh, Tony," Alfred smiled, shaking his head. "It's dangerous. When you're older, you'll understand." He said, stroking the boy's hair, before getting up once more.

"That's what everyone says," Tony pouted, taking Alfred's hand when it was offered to him. Together they walked, looking at the exhibits around them. "Al?" he asked, and the blonde man nodded, looking down at him. "Why do people go to war?"

"Well, people go for all sorts of reasons." Alfred reasoned, shrugging, and Tony pouted, his little forehead creasing in thought as the boy looked at him with critical big brown eyes.

"What's your reason?" he asked.

"Well," Alfred paused for a moment, thinking it through. "You see, my Pop was a soldier in the war too." He said after a while. "He did a lot of good during the war, serving America like a good soldier." He sighed, looking down at where he was holding Tony's small hand. "I wanted so much to be like him. I want to serve America." He grasped Tony's hand, determined, completely unaware of a man that was standing just a few ways away from them, within earshot. "I want to do good things, Tony. I want to protect the people, like you."

"Like me?" Tony blinked.

"Well, yeah." Alfred smiled, patting the boy's head with his free hand. "You're one of the children of America, Tony. You hold the future in your hands."

"My hands?" Tony asked, bringing up his free hand and looking at his two hands, the other one still holding onto Alfred's. "You mean… I can save America too?"

"Well, sort of," Alfred chuckled, "You can definitely make it a much better place than it is now."

"But America's good as it is," the boy replied, his forehead creasing, not understanding what Alfred had meant.

"You can make it so much better." Alfred smiled. "You'll find out when you're older." Tony pouted, and the man laughed. "But, yeah, that's why I want to be in the army, really."

"… Oh, okay. Hey, why aren't you in a uniform? Mr. Rogers was in a uniform, and Miss Peggy, too."

"Well, they didn't let me in." Alfred sighed, disappointment once again stabbing him in his chest, and the boy cocked his head.

"Why not?" the boy asked, "You just said earlier you wanted to be in the army and those were good reasons! Why won't they let you?"

"Life's difficult like that," Alfred reasoned, and Tony shook his head.

"Doesn't mean you have to give up." Tony shrugged. "That's what my pop tells me sometimes."

Alfred fell silent for a moment, and he and Tony stared at each other. The little boy grinned and winked (a gesture later known as the Stark Lady KillerTM) at the taller man.

"Go for it!" he smiled, and Alfred's face broke out in a grin.

"Let's go then, Tony!" he laughed brightly, "Who knows, they might even let you in!"

"Really?" the boy asked, starry-eyed. Inside, Alfred died a little. He probably shouldn't have said that.

"S-sure," he stuttered, before leading the boy to the enlistment centre.

Unbeknownst to him, a man had already beaten him there, listing him down as one of the applicants.

"Mr. Jones?" a nurse called out and Alfred's head snapped up to attention.

"Y-yes!" he called, turning his attention away from Tony, who had somehow managed to fall asleep on his shoulder while they were waiting. One of the nurses, giggling at the cute scene, offered to take the little boy to a room to sleep in. Alfred nodded to her his thanks before rushing to the desk.

"This way, please." He was led into a small room, with a bed on it. Sighing, he sat down on the bed, lanky limbs and all, and waited.

It didn't take long for a man to step inside. For a long, tense moment, he and Alfred merely stared at each other, and finally the man spoke.

"So, you want to go overseas and kill some Nazis?"

"… Excuse me?" Alfred blinked.

The man smiled slightly. "Dr. Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve." He held out his hand for Alfred to shake and the man took it, shaking it.

"Alfred Jones." He said, and the man let go of his hand to set the folder in his other down onto the bed next to Alfred. "So, uh, where're you from?"

"Germany." The man replied. He turned his head slightly to look at Alfred. "Does that bother you?"

"O-oh, no," Alfred stuttered, "Uh, just, curious."

The man looked at him for a moment before looking down at the files.

"Where are you from, Mr. Jones?" he asked, "Is it Miami? Or Philadelphia, or maybe—"

"Th-those might not be the right files," Alfred cut in, panic settling in his stomach. Had they found out he had falsified his documents?

"Five different places, for five different tries." The man said simply, turning to look at Alfred as he gaped at him. "It is not the files I am interested in, Mr. Jones, it is the five tries." He stepped forward to look down at Alfred. "Now, do you want to kill Nazis?"

"…" Alfred bit his lip. "Is this a test?"

The man only looked at him.

Alfred sighed. "… Look, I don't really want to kill anyone, I don't care where they're from." He took a deep breath. "I just…" he trailed off, and the man smiled at him slightly.

"… Well, we've already got so many big guys fighting in the war, maybe…" he looked at Alfred. "We need a little one now." Alfred stared at him as he started pacing around the small room. "I can offer you a chance." He turned around and started heading out the door. "Only a chance."

"I'll take it!" Alfred gasped, walking out after the man, who had walked up to the desk to pick up a stamp on the table.

"So," the man turned to look at him as he stamped the file in the folder. "Where is the little guy from, actually?"

A small smile crossed Alfred's face. "… Brooklyn."

Tony had been so disappointed he hadn't been able to enlist, and Steve was both pleasantly surprised and shocked at the form Alfred waved in front of his face, a triumphant grin on his face.

"You got it?" he laughed incredulously when he saw it, gaping at the stamp that said in bold black, '1A'. "Oh, my… Alfred, this is amazing!"

"I know!" Alfred grinned brightly. "I feel incredible!"

"You're incredible!" Steve laughed, patting the man on his back. "How did you do it?"

"I…" a small smile crossed Alfred's face. "I passed a test."

Tony was crying when Alfred had said goodbye. He offered the little boy exasperated promises that he would do everything he could to get the boy in the army, whilst Steve chuckled at him in the background as Howard howled with laughter at his feeble attempts to calm his little boy down.

In the end he managed to calm Tony down by telling him that good, strong soldiers didn't cry. Immediately the boy fell silent, and Alfred awkwardly patted his head.

"Stay good, now." He said. "You can be a soldier here, too. Protect your friends, all of them."

Tony nodded, pouting to keep his emotions in check, and Steve patted Alfred's shoulder.

"Come on," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"Bye, Tony." Alfred smiled, waving slightly at the little boy as he and Steve walked out the door.

"Bye, Al," the boy waved back, and kept waving until the door closed behind them.

Agent Arthur Kirkland stared down at the line of men standing in front of him, a stern expression on his face as he drew his cold acid-green eyes down and over each and every man standing still as a pole in front of him, critically eyeing them, already making note of their strengths, weaknesses—

He did a double-take, and blinked down at a scrawny young man with golden blonde hair standing in line with the other men, all more burly and muscular than he was. The scrawny little man stuck out like a sore thumb.

He frowned slightly and came to a stop in front of one of the men. He heard the man chuckle and he turned his head sharply to glare at him.

"Soldier?" he sharply asked, and the man merely grinned at him.

"Was just wonderin' how a pretty little thing like you got into the US army," the man replied, "Sir."

Arthur glared at him, taking a step back.

"Step forward, soldier." He said curtly, and the man did as he was told. "Stick out your leg."

"Y'know, I've got better moves than this," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Arthur. "And I'm pretty sure you're going ta love them."

Arthur grit his teeth together and sent his fist flying. The man groaned and fell to the floor, gasping in alarm.

"Agent Kirkland!" a man's voice caught his attention and he turned to see two men climbing out of a jeep and walk up to him.

"Col. Phillips," he greeted, moving out of the way as the man inspected the men—and the man lying down on the floor as a result of Arthur's punch.

"See you're breaking 'em in already." The man commented. "Get yourself back in that line of attention until somebody tells you what to do." He ordered the man on the ground. Immediately he stood up and let out a gruff, "Yes, sir!"

Phillips cleared his throat. "Alright, listen up!" he looked at all of them, getting ready to speak, when he spotted the newest recruit—Alfred Jones. He groaned slightly and sighed.

"Move it ladies, move it!" Arthur bellowed, arms crossed as the soldiers scrabbled up the rope ladder. His eyes followed the scrawny man and inwardly he sighed. He knew Dr. Erskine was sure of what he was doing, but really, with someone like Jones?

Ah, the man had fallen back.

"Jones!" Arthur yelled, "Put your back into it! Are you man enough?" he taunted, and the blonde man started with renewed vigour. Sighing slightly, Arthur crossed his arms and leaned back against the jeep as he watched the soldiers scrabble through the course. "Move, move, move! Do you think you slow gits will survive at the speed you're going?" he yelled, egging them on faster as they manoeuvred through the obstacle course. "I don't think so! Hustle, ladies!"

It seemed to work a little, and the men pressed on with vigour.

Of course, only Jones was left behind. Arthur sighed.

Well, at least the little guy was determined. But was it enough?

"Faster! Come on, faster!"

The men ran along the dirt path in time with each other as a man standing beside Arthur on the jeep ordered them along as the jeep slowed down to a halt just past a flagpole.

"Squad, halt!" the men came to a stop—of course, with Jones lagging behind as always—right in front of the flagpole.

"This flag here means you've just reached the halfway point!" the man yelled, as Jones finally caught up, panting, doubling over on his knees. "First man to bring it back here with me gets a ride back with Agent Kirkland!"

"Agent Barton!" Arthur's voice called from the jeep, scolding, but the man paid him no need.

"Go, go, go!" he yelled, and all the men scrambled for the flagpole, each trying their best to climb up. "Move it! This army's seen worse!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, looking up from his clipboard to watch the pitiful sight of the men scrambling up the pole to get the flag. He sighed.

"No one's gotten that flag in 17 years," he spoke up, catching the attention of the men. "Now, fall back in the line!" he ordered, and reluctantly, the men went to do as they were told. "Fall in! Get back to formation!"

Agent Barton rolled his eyes, snickering slightly—and turned to see Jones approaching the flagpole.

"Jones! He said fall in!" he barked as the blonde approached the pole. "Jones!"

Alfred ignored him and approached the base, pulling out the large screws holding it up and it fell to the ground. All of them stared at him, dumbfounded, as he picked up the flag from the ground and handed it to Agent Barton. He then proceeded to climb into the jeep in the back. Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred, who only smiled sheepishly smiled at him, tipping his hat to him.

A blush blossomed across Arthur's cheeks, and quickly, he turned away to hide his blush as the jeep drove on, Agent Barton barking orders to the men behind them to run faster.

"Faster, ladies!" Arthur ordered, walking amongst the two lines of men doing push-ups. "Haven't I made you into men? Give me proof!" he stepped down on one of them, pushing him down lower, letting off as the man gasped in surprise.

"Move! My grandmother has more energy than that, God bless her soul," he ordered, walking around, critically eyeing them. "Move, girls!"

Phillips and Dr. Erskine stood next to each other beside the supply truck, watching the men as they followed Arthur's orders.

"You're seriously not thinking about choosing Jones, are you?" the man asked, said more as a statement rather than a question.

Dr. Erskine nodded. "Not just thinking. I am sure he is the one."

"For Christ's sake, doctor, you will not believe what I had to do to get this project running. Why won't you—"

"Jones is the one. I am not looking for qualities of the physical type," the man cut him off sternly.

"Doctor, wars are not won by niceness. They are won by guns." Phillips remarked dryly, before pulling out a dummy grenade from one of the boxes and pulling off its pin and handle. He tossed it at the men (currently doing jumping jacks) nonchalantly.

"Grenade!" He yelled, and at once, all the men dove for cover—save for Jones, who threw himself over the grenade. Arthur's eyes widened and he stepped forward, when Jones lifted his head to look at him.

"Get away!" he yelled, "Get back!" he curled himself over the grenade, trembling slightly, as Arthur, Dr. Erskine and Phillips shared a look.

Alfred looked up from where he was curled up to look up at the doctor.

"Dummy grenade," Phillips declared, and Alfred blinked at him.

"Is this a test?" he asked, and Dr. Erskine merely smiled at him. Phillips pushed past him, alarming the doctor.

"He's still skinny." He simply said, before walking away.

"I know this neighbourhood," Alfred spoke up, catching Arthur's attention. "I got beat up in that alley," he said, pointing at one of they alleys they drove by. "… And that parking lot... and that diner." Alfred fell silent, hanging his head.

Arthur looked at him, and Alfred chuckled weakly.

"Oh, what the hell." He chuckled self-depreciatingly, "You probably don't want to hear about what a big loser I am," he said, and Arthur shook his head.

"I know what it's like," he said, "Having driven into you that you're weaker than you really are."

Alfred looked at him for a moment, blushing slightly, and looked away, embarrassed. "Well, it's just that," he struggled with his words. "I have no idea how such a pretty dame," He hesitated, "I, I mean, guy, I mean, you are pretty, but," Alfred gestured uselessly with his hands, "Ah, shit, I'm so sorry."

Arthur chuckled. "It's alright, I get that a lot," he assured the man. "You've no idea how to talk to people, do you?"

"Well, I just thought it wasn't really necessary, you know," he shrugged, blushing slightly.

"So you've never danced."

"Never. Figured I'd just wait." Alfred shrugged.

"Wait for what?" Arthur asked.

"Wait for the right partner." He looked at Arthur, and their eyes met.

A blush spread across Arthur's face, and quickly, the agent turned away, his cheeks a nice shade of pink.

Alfred felt his cheeks colouring too, and they stayed silent for the rest of the trip.

"H-hey, where are we?" Alfred asked as the car came to a stop right in front of an antiques store.

"Just follow me," Arthur said, walking straight inside, where an old woman met up with him.

"Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?" The woman said, and Arthur gave her a small smile.

"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella." He replied, and the woman walked up to the desk to press an alarm button under it. Arthur walked on towards the back of the shop, and Alfred rushed to follow him.

They reached the back, where a pair of bookshelves slid open to reveal a hidden science facility inside. Alfred's eyes widened as he and Arthur walked in, passing by lab after lab, until Arthur came to a stop in front of a pair of double-doors. They opened from the inside, and he and Alfred stepped in to see a laboratory inside, a strange machine set up in the middle of it all as scientists bustled about in fixing up final touches.

Alfred gaped at the sight below him, and the entire room fell silent, all pairs of eyes on him.

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, as Alfred saw Howard Stark standing at the front of it all, looking up at Alfred with an intrigued look in his eyes.

Suddenly the silence was pierced with a cry.

"Al!" little Tony ran up to him and hugged his legs. Surprised, Alfred was taken aback for a moment, before smiling warmly, leaning down to pat the little boy's head. That seemed to have broken the tension, everyone returning to what it was they were doing, albeit with a bit more excitement than before.

"Tony, little guy!" Alfred smiled when Tony let go of his legs. He knelt down to look the boy in the eye and ruffled his hair. "How've you been? Have you been a good soldier for me?"

"Yep!" the little boy smiled brightly, "I've been on my best beh… beh…" he struggled to say the word, and Arthur, smiling softly, patted the boy's head.

"Behaviour, love." He said, and the boy nodded.

"Yeah! Behaviour! Just like you said, Al!"

"That's great," Alfred nodded, standing up to look at Arthur. "… Just… great."

Arthur's smile disappeared and he nodded solemnly at Alfred, before taking the little boy's hand in his. "Sorry, love, but Alfred is needed downstairs."

"Okay, but you have to tell me what happened in the training camp, okay?" the boy demanded, and Alfred laughed weakly.

"You got it, sport." He nodded.

"Promise?" Tony asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Promise," Alfred nodded, and Tony let himself be led away by Arthur, back to where Col Phillips was.

Uneasily, Alfred made his way down to the machine, where Dr. Erskine was waiting for him.

"Good morning," he greeted, and Alfred shook his hand. Suddenly there was a flash of a camera's light, temporarily stunning him, and Alfred blinked several times to get his vision back. "Please," he heard the doctor say to the photographer, "Not now." The man left, before he turned back to face Alfred.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and nervously, Alfred nodded. "… Good. Take off your shirt and hat."

Hastily, Alfred did as he was told, as he spotted Arthur returning to his side, gently taking his shirt and hat from him, before setting it down on a seat nearby. Gingerly, he eyed the metal bed of the machine, and clambered on top of it, slowly lying down as trepidation pulsated through his head.

"Comfortable?" Dr. Erskine asked, as Alfred settled down.

"… It's a little… big." Alfred said after a moment, and the man chuckled, before turning away.

"Mr. Stark? How are your levels?"

"Levels at 100%," the man replied, looking down at Alfred for a moment. "I may dim the lights of half of Brooklyn… but we're good to go." He nodded, before walking away.

"Agent Kirkland, don't you think you'd be more comfortable up in the booth?" he heard the doctor ask Arthur, and Alfred strained his neck to see Arthur nod, before heading up the stairs, where Tony met him halfway, hand latched firmly onto the man's hand. Arthur looked back at him, and gave him a small encouraging smile. A small smile made its way on Alfred's face as he watched the two of them enter the booth, and he relaxed, lowering his head, sighing deeply.

Dr. Erskine had begun to talk after that, but Alfred couldn't register what he was saying, too fixated on the sight of scientists strapping him down as they brought out several syringes filled with a blue substance. Alfred's eyes widened slightly as they pressed down two panels over his pectoral muscles.

A nurse came over and stuck a needle into him as the scientists loaded the large blue syringes in holes at either side of him as Dr. Erskine approached his side. Wincing as the nurse pulled the needle out, he looked up at the man.

"That wasn't so bad," he said, and the man shrugged.

"That was penicillin." He said, and Alfred's eyes widened, as he turned away. "Serum infusion beginning in 5, 4, 3…" Alfred closed his eyes, breathing deeply as two more panels pressed against his arms.

"2…" the man gently touched Alfred's shoulder. "… 1."

Alfred winced, his face contorting into one of discomfort and pain as he felt needles prick into him, the serum flowing into him through them—

He gasped, and his eyes flew open, as Dr. Erskine spoke again.

"Mr. Stark." He nodded at the man, and Alfred felt the machine rise upwards until he was upright, a metal casing covering him from all sides. Outside, he could hear the man's muffled voice after he knocked.

"Alfred? Can you hear me?"

Alfred laughed weakly.

"Probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?" he asked.

Outside, he heard the man speak. "We will proceed."

Suddenly light engulfed him.

Arthur was on the edge of his seat, holding onto Tony's small hand like a lifeline as he watched the inside of the steel container light up, Howard's steady counting building up the tension in Arthur's chest—

Suddenly he could hear Alfred screaming. His eyes widened, and Tony buried his head in his shoulder.

"Is Al going to be okay…?" he weakly asked, and Arthur hugged the boy close.

"Of course he is, love," he muttered to him, but even he himself wasn't so sure.

Alfred's screaming intensified, and Tony's grip on his hand tightened. Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, and with Tony in tow, he walked out of the booth.

"Shut it down!" he yelled, his heart thumping far too loudly in his ears for his liking "Shut it down!" he pressed, his tone more urgent.

"Mr. Stark! Kill the reactor, kill it!"

Howard made a move to shut down the reactor, when Alfred cried out.

"Don't!" he yelled from inside. "I can do this!"

Howard stared at the container for a moment, before immediately getting back to the controller, turning it up further, until it was at 100%. Arthur's breathing turned shallow as worry clenched his throat, Tony whimpering weakly at his side, face buried in his hip as he turned away to look.

The controls began to spark everywhere, alarming scientists left and right, but Arthur was far too absorbed with what was happening to Alfred to notice.

Suddenly the light inside the container died down and everything fell silent as the container began to hiss.

"Mr. Stark!" Dr. Erskine called, and the man hurriedly pressed the release controls. The container opened with a hiss, revealing Alfred—

Much more different than before, now with large, defined muscles, more taller than he was, tousled hair and sweaty body proof of the exertion he had been going through to handle the pain of change.

He was panting as he got down from the machine with the help of Dr. Erskine and Howard, as people let out murmurs of success as people began to walk out of the booth to go down to where they were.

"We did it," Alfred weakly said, and Dr. Erskine nodded.

"We did it," he confirmed, as Howard nodded, dazed.

"You actually did it," he breathed, as Arthur ran up to them leaving Tony behind in his excitement. He was panting for a moment, before he finally gathered enough breath to talk properly.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Taller," Alfred panted, and Arthur nodded, slightly flustered, before gingerly reaching out to touch his newly-formed muscles.

"Y-you look taller," he nodded, handing Alfred a shirt, embarrassed, helping him put it on.

"Hey!" Tony cried out from the back of the suddenly-huge crowd of people around, "Hey! Al!" he jumped up and down, but it was in vain. Behind him, he didn't notice the man looming over him.

Dr. Erskine looked at the back of the crowd, apparently hearing Tony over the din, and his eyes widened as he saw the man behind him take out a lighter. His mouth began to open in warning—

Suddenly the booth above them exploded, and Arthur sprang into action, pulling out a handgun from his side, and running up to the bomber standing by the stairs as he pulled out the last syringe with the serum in it.

Tony let out a cry of alarm when the bomb went off, and suddenly the man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him up as a human shield.

"Stop him!" Dr. Erskine yelled, and the man pointed his gun at him and shot him once, twice—and he dropped down onto the floor. Alfred's eyes widened and he ran to the man's side as Arthur took careful aim and fired at the man, hitting him on his shoulder, the bullet just barely grazing past little Tony's ear.

"That's my son!" Howard howled from behind them, and Arthur swore, before climbing up the stairs after the man, who shot down everyone who got into his path as he used Tony as his human shield.

Alfred gaped down at Dr. Erskine, who weakly raised his hand and pressed his finger right over his heart. At once, he knew what the man was saying, and suddenly, he died in his arms.

Arthur ran out of the antique shop just in time to see the man and his accomplice drive off with Tony with them, kicking and screaming as he tried to get away. Gritting his teeth, he took careful aim—and fired.

It hit the man's accomplice straight through his head and he fell forward, dead, crashing the car into a yellow taxi that was driving by.

The driver got out of his car to yell at them, only the assassin (with Tony still struggling in his arms) had barrelled right past him and stole the car, shoving the boy into the passenger seat next to him before speeding down the road, right towards Arthur. Growling, the man fired at the man as he drove right at him, Tony screaming at him to get out of the way—

Suddenly he was tackled to the ground by Alfred, the both of them grunting as they hit the ground. The taxi drove right past them, and Arthur swore at Alfred.

"I had him!" he yelled, as Alfred got up.

"You were about to get killed!" he protested, and Arthur fell silent, before shaking his head, quickly making his way to a car. He turned his head to tell Alfred to join him—when the man was suddenly gone.

Alfred tumbled over cars as he ran with new super-speed, catching up to the taxi without problem, hanging onto it until it crashed into the harbour.

"Tony!" he yelled, getting thrown off the car as it swerved precariously to the left. He landed heavily on the ground a few metres away. He kicked off the ground, using the shift in his momentum to propel him forward, and he managed to yank the passenger side door clean off.

"Al!" he heard Tony yell for him, when suddenly the assassin climbed out of the taxi, arm wrapped around Tony's waist as he hoisted the little boy up, gun in the air, pointed at him.

The man fired three shots, and Alfred hid behind the door, using it as a makeshift shield, before he ran off deeper into the docks. Quickly, Alfred ran after him, but as he turned a corner—

"Stop right there or the kid dies!" he yelled at him, gun pointed at Tony's temple, the little boy quivering in his grip. "Don't you dare move!"

Alfred tossed aside the door and held his hands up in defence. "Let the kid go!" he demanded, "He has nothing to do with this!"

"Not until—"

The man got cut off when suddenly two gunshots rang clear out. The man slumped to the ground, revealing behind him Arthur, holding a gun with a smoking barrel.

"… Agent Kirkland," Alfred breathed, and Arthur dismissively waved him off, running towards them, before embracing the trembling Tony into his arms. The little boy sobbed into his shoulder as he soothingly stroked the boy's hair to calm him down.

Alfred let out a sigh, slumping down with them, also pulling Tony into a hug.

"Almost lost you there, buddy," he said, and the boy turned around in Arthur's arms to hug him as well, tightly, like if he let go Alfred would disappear. The man looked at Arthur, who was looking at him with a soft expression on his face. "Thanks for coming here on time."

"I-it was nothing," Arthur stuttered, his cheeks flushing pink. "Just doing my duty," he looked away, but his reddening cheeks were still very much visible. "Th-the car's just outside." He said, before turning to collect the stolen syringe from the dead man's front pocket.

Alfred smiled, shaking his head fondly.

"Come on, buddy, let's get you back." He said to Tony, and Arthur turned on his heel to walk away. He stood up, easily carrying the boy in his arms, and followed Arthur out of the docks.

Arthur didn't want to admit it, but the sight of Alfred carrying little Tony in his arms with ease sent warm waves washing over him like the gentle sweep of calm waves. A blush was permanently on his face as he drove back to the antiques store, Alfred sitting in the front passenger seat next to him with Tony cradled in his arms, having cried himself to sleep.

"So, uh," Alfred spoke up. "You up for that dance we were talking about?"

Arthur peered at him from the corner of his eye, and unwillingly, a smile spread across his face.

"Well, are you man enough, Jones?" he asked, chuckling slightly.

"Ah, well," Alfred laughed, "You have made a man out of me."

Arthur chuckled, flushing, as Alfred leaned in (careful to not wake up the sleeping little boy) and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Well, then." Arthur stopped at a red light to face Alfred. "It's a date." He smiled.

"A date," Alfred repeated, chuckling slightly, before leaning in to kiss Arthur.

It was warm, and gentle, and—

"Eew, why are you two kissing?" Tony asked, bleary-eyed as he sat up in Alfred's lap.

The two men looked at each other for a moment, and laughed.

"A man out of you, indeed." Arthur nodded, stepping on the gas as the light turned green.

Sooo much fun, this fic. XD I blame bb!Tony for making it so fun. :D

Hope you guys enjoyed this, and thanks so much for all the faves, follows and reviews on all my other stories! 2 days to go! Whoo!

See y'all tomorrow~