Whatever It Takes

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"I've got a mild inspiration." Tony muttered in the garage as his desk came to life. "I'd like to see if it checks out. So, I'd like to run one last sim before we pack it in for the night."

Tony had been at this for three hours now, and twenty minutes ago he got frustrated and almost called it quits, but then the kid's excited face popped back in his mind.

"This time, in the shape of a Mobius strip, inverted, please?" He asked and F.R.I.D.A.Y. complied.

"Processing." F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke.

Tony looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, and grabbed the hologram.

"Right, give me the eigenvalue of that particle, factoring in the spectral decomp. That'll take a second." Tony said and took a drink of his coffee.

"Just a moment." F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke calmly.

"And don't worry if it doesn't pan out." Tony spoke with doubt to the A.I. and grabbed a raspberry. "I'm just kinda..."

"Model rendered." F.R.I.D.A.Y. told him and Tony fell back into the chair at the successful model.

Tony exhaled sharply in disbelief and put his hand over his mouth. He didn't know what to do or say, so he held out his arms in awe, and said the first thing he thought of.

"Shit!" He exclaimed softly.

"Shit!" A young voice exclaimed and Tony turned around to see his son sitting on the step.

Tony held his finger to his mouth, in a shushing motion, and shook his head.

"What are you doing up, flyboy?" Tony asked him.

"Shit." Steven repeated, seeming to like the look of panic it would bring on his father's face.

"Nope." Tony said. "We don't say that. Only Uncle Rhodey says that word. He coined it. It belongs to him."

"Why are you up?" Steven asked, growing bored of his previous game.

"'Cause I got some important shit going on here!" Tony said in a teasing tone, pointing to his work, and Steven made a face at him over his word choice. "What do you think? No, I-I got something on my mind...I got something on my mind."

"Was it juice pops?" His son asked, hope lacing his words and Tony sighed.

"Sure was." Tony said and Steven lept to his feet. "That's extortion." Tony pointed at him, rising to his feet as well. "That's a word. What kind you want?"

"Cherry." Steven told him.

"Great minds think alike." Tony told him and looked back at the blueprint one last time. "Juice pops were exactly what I was thinking of."

"Please, dad." Steven shot his dad a look. "We both know you and Maria love grape."

"You caught me." He smiled at his son. "Let's go."

He spent the next twenty minutes with his son, finishing the remains of their juice pops in the young boy's room.

"You done?" Tony asked and Steven nodded, letting Tony take the stick. "Here." Tony said, presenting his sleeve. "Wipe."

"Dad." Steven protested.

"Steven, I do not want to get in trouble with your mother for sticky sheets." Tony said. "Now wipe, please."

The boy rolled his eyes, but followed his father's command. Tony smiled and then pressed his palm against his son's head.

"Head goes here." He said and pushed Steven's head against the pillow, the young boy erupting into giggles. "Night, love you tons." Tony said and went to stand up.

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