Civil War

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When your dad came back from his trip to MIT, he wasn't the same somehow. He seemed really serious and was quieter than you were used to. The giant hug you usually got as the first thing when he walked through the door wasn't as energetic. He smiled when he saw you, but it was sad and didn't last long. Vision tried to reassure you and say that he was probably just tired from travelling, but you could tell that there was more going on that that. He had a bed on his private jet, so he should've slept just fine if he was that tired.

"Dad, was it a bad meeting?"

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," he sighed as he unpacked his suitcase. "It was just boring, like I said it would be."

"You sure that's it?"

"I'm sure...why?" Tony set his clothes back down on the pile and turned to you, his eyebrow cocked up skeptically as he waited for your answer. "Did Vision say something to you? Wanda?"

"Why would there be something to say to me if nothing is going on?"

"Don't answer my question with a question, young lady."

"Then don't lie to me...older...person..."

Tony tried to hold his resolve, he really did, but dammit if you weren't the most entertaining kid he'd ever known, and he couldn't hold back his laugher. You were also the only one to see so clearly through his bullshit, and at such a young age it only meant that he still had a lifetime of this to try to survive. "I wasn't lying," he began again, wiping the smile off his face, "it really was boring."

"Dad, come on."

He turned back to his work and collected the stack of shirts he had abandoned, sighing heavily as he carried them carefully to his dresser. You stood up from the chair you had been in and went to the suitcase, grabbing the rest to help. "Thanks, honey."

"Sure," you shrugged, "if you don't tell me, it's okay. I'll just ask Viz."

"So, he's 'Viz' now? I suppose that's good progress."

"Yeah, he's alright."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to know that he's gained your approval after all this time. What did he do to make that happen?"

"Him and Wanda made a big ice cream sundae table and we ate almost all of it. There was like, ten bowls of ice cream so Viz had to help us before it all melted."

Tony's hands stopped their work and he stood straighter, his mind trying to see that scene as it likely played out, and he kept stumbling over one small detail. "Wait, Vision ate too? I didn't know he could do that."

"Yeah, he sure can," you answered emphatically. "Did you know that he doesn't even have to poop when he's done?"

With that, his laughter exploded out, the shirts dropping carelessly into the drawer so that he could hold himself up as the waves hit him and choked his air. Looking at you didn't help the situation at all, with you giving him a completely serious look that made it clear that you hadn't meant that with any humor in the least. It only made the whole thing that much funnier to him and there was no stopping it now.

"Um...well...I can't say that I've ever thought about it...honey," he stumbled over his words, "but you know what? At least now I'll never, ever, ever have to ask."


"No, darling, just a pinch of Paprika," Vision directed, "we don't want to deter from the recipe as it's written."

"Sorry, Viz, I thought that's what I had," you said. "Did I wreck it?"

"No, I'm sure that you haven't. If so, we shall simply start again."

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