long overdue

[watchesthewatchers]

It's Ricki's little ramshackle apartment, but there Peter is one morning, perched on the loveseat, reading a file, waiting for Bruce Wayne to arrive.

He has a gun, but tucked out of sight, not on his person. Just in case.

Comments

[watchesthewatchers]

"I may have told him he's very good at getting the people he loves killed."

Full disclosure. Peter is spending an awful lot of time looking at the ceiling.

Bruce winces, visibly.

[profiteering]

"You didn't tell me that part."

Tony doesn't sound upset, because in his estimation it's true and what's done is done anyway. But he knows that his Bruce has similar issues.

[watchesthewatchers]

"He told me I dragged Ricki into war zones, I implied he was physically abusive. He dislocated my finger, I fired a warning shot past his ear. It was about as bad as it's possible to get."

[profiteering]

"...Yeah."

He coughs, and scrambles for a bright side so he'll be able to stay calm.

"You didn't shoot him and he didn't do whatever a non-fatal ninja does."

[watchesthewatchers]

"No. But Christmas may need to be a little less- everyone."

Is his caveat.

[profiteering]

"It's your day."

He promises.

"Oh, Bruce. His birthday, Christmas."

[watchesthewatchers]

"That's sweet. Our Christmas angel."

Bruce promises, setting an arm about him, fingertips brushing Tony's side.

"Bedtime."

[profiteering]

He has an arm still around Peter, and looks up to smile at Bruce. His temper is fraying.

"Come on, pet."

They get to the bed, and Tony gets Peter some clothes--they're not quite Peter's size (Tony is a lot shorter).

[watchesthewatchers]

It's mostly a lot of bare ankle poking out from under the cotton pants. He passes out immediately, and Bruce is already moving to get Tony off the bed, out of the room, before he blows.

[profiteering]

They go to the living room, where no noise will wake Peter.

Tony stalks to the minibar to put the glasses and decanter away.

"I'm not just going to let Ricki be kept away."

[zen_en_vert]

"Mm."

Says Bruce, waiting for the momentum to pick up, going to go get the fire going.

[profiteering]

"This is bullshit. What, is he suddenly monogamous? Is he forcing Ricki to be?"

It's not all on Wayne. He knows that; it's clear by the way he draws his breath and straightens up, like he's reining himself in.

"They're friends. They're our friends, too. ...He broke his wrist!"

[zen_en_vert]

"Out with it. All of it, you'll feel better."

Settling down cross legged.

[profiteering]

"Look, I get into fights. But not like that. Not if it's someone I'm--fuck, what are we anymore with them, anyway? I thought Wayne was supposed to be the spokesman for self-control!"

He shoots back some Jaeger and stalks away to the balcony. He sits in the open doorway there, facing Bruce.

"And if I let it all out I'll be going to Gotham."

[zen_en_vert]

"No, you won't."

Bruce tells him, watching the drink in his hand, then flicking his gaze up to look him in the eye.

"What are you feeling right now?"

[profiteering]

"Like I could go break his arm."

They've made so much progress in their personal communication, but it's like chewing bricks right now to try to express himself.

"It's been like this since I hired Ricki."

[zen_en_vert]

"Why do you think that is?"

Bruce asks him, curiously.

[profiteering]

"You know him better than I do."

[zen_en_vert]

"Not what I'm asking, Tony."

Why does he think it is?

[profiteering]

Tony looks at him hopelessly.

"It doesn't matter what I think. He's the one who's picking the fights. He's the one keeping Ricki away from us!"

[zen_en_vert]

"Do you think that's true?"

Bruce challenges, gently.

[profiteering]

Tony scowls at him. No, he doesn't.

"He told Peter to stay away from Ricki."

[zen_en_vert]

"Peter said he told Peter not to hurt Ricki again."

Bruce corrects him.

"Is that the same thing?"

[profiteering]

"How do you think Peter's going to take that?"

[zen_en_vert]

"Self-destructive and bitterly, because Bruce is a bit of a plank when it comes to social skills. But, if it were anyone but Peter who had made Ricki cry like he did that day here in the bathroom, what would you have done?"

Bruce asks, stretching out a little.

"I want tea, come, let's put the kettle on."