[for Friends] happy birthday

[daretodo]

The only reason I remember it's my birthday today at all is because Pepper asked me if I want a party earlier in the week. I declined the offer, of course, both not wanting to trouble her any more than I already have and not up to the celebration. It's an occasion I meet with trepidation instead of jubilation, never having honestly thought I'd live

Comments

[daretodo]

"...point," I have to admit, index finger of my free hand lifting in the air in punctuation. "You just usually have a name by now. Guess I showed up a couple minutes earlier in the 'I just turned on my potentially dangerous and completely untested device that I plan on unleashing on the general public with not nearly as many safeguards as it probably needs' process than I do normally."

I set down the portfolio in a place I'm relatively certain it won't get damaged or dirty (or both), then turn back around to finally get a better look at this Insecto Bot 3000 he's built. It is, as Tony Stark's inventions typically are, wildly impressive, and I take a sort of running look at it, making my way around it in a circle, dropping down into a crouch when necessary to get a gander at the underbelly, so to speak.

"Is it for my birthday?" I ask, debating the merits of actually touching the thing without knowing if it'll explode in my face.

I do know it's not for my birthday, though. I mean, Pepper had to remind me of my birthday, the timing for this is probably just a coincidence.

[notawastedlife]

The robot swivelled to keep Peter in view, eyepieces swivelling and rotating, projected beams of light maintaining the fix, recording, noting.

"...it's not your birthday, that's a trick- it's your birthday?"

Well, he wasn't getting the robot, the robot was for the scrapyard. He'd won a flight with Iron Man in the auction, so trying that was out, too. There'd be something.

"You don't want a guard dog. No take home value. Take some parts for the Vespa, or something. You probably already have, you're welcome."

[daretodo]

I'm not sure how much I like those lights. The aesthetic is fine, obviously, but what they necessarily imply isn't. I'm not a big fan of A.I. having the jump on me, it just never ends well. When I have some time on my own, I might have to stretch the definition of general access a little to include a look at its hardware.

"Your thoughtfulness never ceases to surprise me," I say on a snort. "I'm thirty, by the way, thanks for asking." I stand up, and briefly clap a hand to his shoulder as I pass him. "Which is both older than I ever thought I'd live to see and still young enough to be the son you illegitimately had when you were at MIT." A beat. "I have your eyes, don'tcha think?"

[notawastedlife]

"Well, let me welcome you to adulthood," Tony said, with a solemn complete lack of irony.

Which, wait, what was the math on that? Tony was good at math, and very good at math involving demonstrating he was not the father. Obviously he was older than Pete, but that much older than a 30 year old? That was, that was alarming. That was disturbing.

"...how old do you think I am?"

[daretodo]

"I think you're turning 45 on October 9th," I say without skipping a beat, fighting back a smile, because I think I'm about to induce a midlife crisis, here. I clap my hands together instead.

"Ooh, ask me another one. I'll take 'More Knowledgeable Friends Than Tony Stark' for 400 coconuts, Alex."

[notawastedlife]

"Which is too old to be fathering- okay, when did I graduate- no, I'm not playing your game," Tony said, having identified said game, after that sentence, as one that no one won.

Which meant that no matter how it fell out Peter would still probably get more points. Clearly silly and pointless, as an exercise.

"I wasn't fathering kids at 14. Almost that precocious. Not quite. Also not fathering kids... later than 14, but, different reasons, you know."

[daretodo]

"Do those different reasons include that if you and Pepper ever had kids, they'd be raised by a progressively more advanced series of robot nannies and me?" I ask, brows arching.

"You could make a lady friend for Jarvis."

[notawastedlife]

"I meant birth control, but, that would be the reason for the- does Jarvis strike you as wanting a lady friend? He's very... Jarvis," Tony said, taking the derail, walking backwards and watching the guard robot pad along behind him.

[daretodo]

"Make a guy friend, then," I say with a shrug. "It'd be an unconventional family no matter how you cut it, anyway. You'd be involved."

[notawastedlife]

"...you can't build someone a romantic interest, that's just sad," Tony said, "I made a guard dog, look at that thing, it's cool. Forget the robot boyfriend idea, I don't even know how you got onto that."

[daretodo]

"Tell that to Hank Pym," I mutter under my breath, but I lift my hands in mock surrender, and look back to the guard dog, which is cool. The stuff this guy can do with a bunch of scraps never ceases to amaze, really, but if I told him that too often, his ego would get more insufferable than it already is. I have to ration my compliments.

"Is this the thing you wanted me to beat up for ya?"

[notawastedlife]

"Try to beat up," Tony said, and then gave it another look. "No, right now it'd be beat up. Yeah, that's the one. It's probably terrible at it, at base level combat readiness."

He paused, and then turned. "Yeah, terrible. You're Terrible."

[daretodo]

"...and another reason why you shouldn't be having kids," I say to myself, rocking back on my heels for a second before I hop forward a little, and roll my shoulders, like I'm getting ready for a fight right now. With his idiosyncratic naming style, they'd probably be named Squished Head or Colicky.

"You know," I add to Tony, louder now so he can actually hear, "Cap drew me a piece of art, and it wasn't even a coincidence he gave it to me today. Just saying."

[notawastedlife]

"It's only your birthday on the calendar," Tony said. "In terms of actual time since you were born, it probably isn't actually exactly..."

Oh, bad choice. Had this just come up? Couldn't have. Time to abort? No, too far in, couldn't duck it now, but how hard could it be, just take a guess from various... age-markers...

"...twenty... sev- eight, twenty-eight? ...years? Today."

[daretodo]

"Thirty," I say dryly, both unimpressed and unsurprised, "seconds. That is, it's been thirty seconds, maybe, since I told you I turned thirty years old. Seriously, dude, why are we even friends?"

It's a question I've asked myself on more than one occasion, and I still haven't really found a satisfactory answer. Because it doesn't make sense, at the end of the day. I mean, sure, we have a few common interests, and all, but how Tony Stark wormed his way into being my best friend over the years is something I'm not sure mere mortals like ourselves are meant to understand.

"Though you're right. Even if I'd never stepped foot on this lousy piece of rock, figuring out what day my birthday would actually fall on would be tricky business. This isn't my first alternate dimension, and those always run on Wacky Standard Time."

[notawastedlife]

"I was thinking about robots," Tony said, in his own defence. Of course, he generally was, and also about quantum tunnelling, the best color to make the hoverbike, and several other subjects.

In a strange way, sometimes he almost found it harder to focus, without the drink. None of it got blurred out, but the problem was, none of it got blurred out.

Well, except people telling him their ages, but he had other numbers to keep track of.

"Which answers your question, actually, that's why we're friends," he pointed out. Thinking about robots, obviously. Some shared life experiences and philosophies, if he had to drill down, he supposed, but he'd admit to robots.