Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Mint Condition Madness

"Peter," Tony's voice cut through sharply. "No."

Peter looked up like a deer in the headlights. In his hand, a tiny pink spoon with a scoop of chocolate-speckled green clumped on top.

Tony held his hand out, but Peter instinctively pulled his arm back. Tony raised his eyebrows challengingly.

"Just a taste!" Peter defended. He slowly opened his mouth.

"No—"

Peter led the spoon toward his mouth, making direct eye contact with Tony the whole time.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, I'm not letting you purposely eat something you are allergic to—" Tony widened his eyes and lunged forward. "—WHILE YOUR SCARY AUNT LEFT ME IN CHARGE OF KEEPING YOU SAFE—"

Just before Peter was about to stuff the spoon in his mouth, Tony smacked his hand. The spoon flung unfortunately right into the nice lady behind the counter's face, splattering bits of ice-cream across her face. Peter gaped, a hand coming up to cover his mouth.

The nice lady sighed tiredly.

"I am so sorry," Tony said immediately, straightening his spine and brushing off the pocket of his tuxedo. "It was a necessary precaution. Kid is very allergic to mint."

"Why'd you ask me for a sample if you're allergic?" Nice lady asked, her eyes dead to the core. Peter watched with a grimace as she used her apron to wipe away the mint ice-cream off her face.

"Sorry," Peter apologized with a guilty smile. "Just tastes so good, yknow? Ha ha..."

She sighed again. "What can I really get you, then?"

Peter roamed his eyes back over the flavours, rolling back and forth on his feet. "Uh, bubblegum, please."

"Great." She scooped some lazily and held it on the end of the large metal spoon. "Waffle, sugar, cake, or bowl?"

"Cake cone, please," Peter smiled.

She reached behind her, sighed another time, and plopped the heavy scoop onto the cake cone. Peter didn't even want to ask for a second scoop, so he just took the cone and began to lick at it.

"You?" She nodded at Tony.

Tony strolled along the aisle and looked among the flavours, taking as much time as possible. He stroked his chin. "Hmmm."

She stared at him blankly.

"Hmmmmmmm."

Peter looked nervously between her and Tony. "How about mocha? You like coffee."

Tony held up a hand and snorted. "Please, kid. I got this. I can pick my own ice-cream."

"Okay," Peter replied, glancing back up at the very tired, grumpy-looking college student behind the counter. "Might wanna hurry, though. Don't want my icecream to melt."

"Your son is right," she said grumpily. "You're gonna hold up business."

Tony pointedly turned his head to look around at the very empty store. "Oh, you're right. My bad. Uh... let's just go with... mocha. Hm? That sounds good. I just thought of it."

"Right," Peter said with amusement. He licked a drip of pink that melted down to his fingers. "What a great idea, Mr. Stark."

"Great choice," she said plainly. "Waffle, sugar, cake, or bowl?"

Tony waved his hand. "Waffle, obviously. It's the superior choice."

"And most expensive," Peter added.