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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

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Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on August 8th! =)

Chapter 2

Ted walked into the office the next morning and went right to the sign that Vic had made the day before. He had scoured the internet to find out what these old machines sounded like and did his best to imitate the noises he'd heard on different obscure YouTube videos as he mimicked stamping his time card. Vic laughed at her desk while he did so.

"Good morning," He grinned at her as he sat in his desk chair. "Did you clock in?"

"Oh yes," Vic nodded seriously, "I want to make sure I keep this job. It's helping to support my family until they find me a good husband."

Ted pushed down the question of whether or not Sean was in the running for her husband and the question of if Sean was worried about helping her keep her job.

"What a noble thing to do, so selfless of you." He grinned when she laughed. He really liked the sound of her laugh.

"So how was running around with Uncle Ron all day yesterday?"

Ted smirked, "Brutal, the hazing here is intense. I don't know how you put up with it."

Vic shook her head, "How else will we know if you're up to working here?"

Ted laughed, "See this is how I know that working here is the right move. I like a group that doesn't mess around, no-nonsense, nose to the grindstone, that's how I like it."

Vic laughed, "I can tell. I don't think there's a bone in your body that knows how to joke around."

"Not a one," Ted shrugged, "some people think it's a waste, but I think they're just jealous."

Vic laughed before her phone rang and she composed herself to answer it.

Ted took advantage of the moment to get his laptop turned on and start unloading the few things he brought for his desk. He'd just started to look through the new potential clients that Ron had been wanting to reach out to when Vic's voice spoke up.

"A wolf figurine?" She picked up the wolf his mum had given him when he finished A-Levels.

Ted gave a nervous laugh, "Er, do you know my last name?"

She bit her lip, "No, does that make me a bad coworker?"

Ted shook his head but he couldn't keep from smiling. "You know if I answer that honestly, I'm only going to make you feel bad."

"Do you even know my last name?" Vic crossed her arms over her chest, still holding the wolf.

Ted smirked, "Why yes, Weasley, I do."

Vic blushed and then laughed, "Fine, I'm an awful person, now what's your last name?"

"You think I'll let you off the hook that easily, Weasley?" Ted grinned. "You underestimate me."

"Oh, come on, I admitted to being awful." She kicked his foot.

"And I admire your honesty." Ted held out his hand for his wolf figurine.

Vic smirked. "I think I'll hold on to this, at least until I guess your last name."

Teddy briefly considered fighting her for it, but he smiled when she rubbed her hand over it like it was a puppy she was petting.

"Sure, hold on to it."

She blinked and bit her lip before smiling, "Thanks, I'll give it back once I figure out your last name."

Ted shrugged and grabbed his phone to call the first company on Ron's list. "I won't hold my breath."

Vic went to argue with him, but Teddy held up his hand and responded to the receptionist that had answered his call.

Her playful glare put a smile on his face for the rest of the calls he had to make.

"Did you bring lunch?" Vic asked as she moved to the fridge.

Ted looked up at the clock and raised his eyebrows. Was it really already one o'clock?

"Er, yeah, I did," Ted pulled his backpack to him.

Vic moved to the card table as Ted sat at his desk and pulled out his sandwich.

"You're going to eat at your desk?"

Ted looked up at her, "Yep."

"Well, this will be an awkward lunch hour. I'm practically shouting at you from over here."

Ted smirked, "Yeah, really awkward."

Vic pulled her drink to her lips and Teddy felt his smirk morphing into a smile. She had something about her, something that kept pulling him in even when his brain kept telling him to back off. Honestly, he needed to stop, she was snogging a guy in the office when he wasn't there. But try as he might, Ted couldn't stop himself. Vic was pulling him in and he couldn't, or maybe he wouldn't stop her.

"Well, what shall we shout about?"

"Do you normally shout with the men in your life?"

"Only when they insist on sitting fifty feet away from me."

"Fifty feet? This office is barely twenty feet across." Ted laughed.

Vic ignored him, "No one likes a cleverclogs, Ted."

He laughed loudly at that one, "Fine, I don't normally care for shouting at the women in my life, but if you insist on eating all the way over there, I can make a special exception for you."

"You're ridiculous," Vic laughed and went to say more when her cell phone rang.

She looked torn as she looked at the screen before mouthing sorry to him and swiping to answer.

"Hi, Sean."

Ted turned to look out the window and tried to push away the annoyance he felt. It would make sense her boyfriend would call over her lunch hour. He tried to tune her out and focus on the cars driving past the office building, but the catch in her voice as she spoke again completely threw that idea out the window.

"Oh, are you sure you can't do that another night?"

Ted focused on chewing his food to keep from turning to look at her.

"No, I understand, just, we planned this out last month."

It was involuntary. Ted glanced her way and saw one of the most dejected looks he'd ever seen, including when Lily was two-years-old and didn't get a second scoop of ice cream.

"Alright, but I'll see you tonight?"

Ted looked back out the window and took a long drink from his water bottle.

"Oh, right, well, text me then."

It wasn't his business, but Ted couldn't help but feel like taking it to blows with Sean. How dare he treat this amazing woman like someone he could blow off?

"Right. Bye."

Ted finally allowed himself to turn his office chair back to face Vic and found her gripping her phone tightly between her hands.

"Everything alright?"

Vic took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, just, just plans changing and I've always been a little frustrated when that happens."

"Must be something big to cancel plans that have been set out for a month."

Vic swallowed hard and took a bite of her sandwich. Ted took the hint and moved the conversation forward.

"Well, while you were rudely interrupting our shouting match, I thought we might start shouting about how insane it is that Ron couldn't find space for two more desks at the main office."

Vic grinned. "You're more observant than most. I have two theories on that one."

"Wait!" Ted held up his hand as he set down his sandwich. "We have to make sure that he hasn't bugged the office to spy on us."

He started inspecting the ceiling and the floors, Vic's laughter echoing in the small space. Ted opened the supply closet and the bathroom and the fridge and the microwave before deciding he'd played the part well enough and went back to his desk.

"Alright, I think the coast is clear. Now, what are your theories?"

Vic grinned, "Well, my first theory is that he's protective of me, and doesn't want me involved with all the politicking that happens at the main office. But my second theory is that he doesn't want this to keep being a part of Bread & Butter. I think he's prepping this so that it could become its own operation. And that transition goes much smoother if the people who work here haven't been involved with Bread & Butter at all. I mean, aside from meeting everyone at the main office, did you get contact information? Sure, we could find them over the company system, but we don't do anything that involves them at all. Uncle Ron even hires a different company to deliver for our department than the rest of the company."

Teddy felt his eyes go huge. "Vic you're brilliant!"

Vic blushed, "Well, that's just my speculation…"

"No!" Teddy shook his head, "You're a genius, really, and that's going to completely change the game!"

Ted snagged his notebook and pen and started jotting down notes.

"What are you on about?" Vic moved back to her desk chair and rolled it to his desk.

"Vic, my degree is in marketing, not sales, but your uncle hired me basically on the spot. He's got you running a website and coordinating deliveries. But he's completely cut us off from the rest of Bread & Butter. He told me that he wanted to see me pioneer this division. Vic, we're building a company! And I know how to market that! My job title says Salesman, but I'm sitting on the precipice of being the Chief Marketing Officer. If I can show Ron what I can do to increase my sales, if you and I can grow this into something big, Vic we could be the C-staff of this gig!"

Vic stared at him for a long moment before rolling back to her desk and grabbing a notepad and pen.

"So, what do we do?"

"Why did Ron hire you?" Ted pushed back in his chair.

Vic looked down, "Because I needed a job."

"No," Teddy shook his head, "I will put a thousand pounds down that he did not pity hire you. Did you go to university or any sort of training after A-levels?"

Vic shrugged, "I went to uni, but my degree is in communications, how does that help here?"

Ted looked out the window and thought about it, trying to connect the dots. What did Ron have in store for Vic? Then it hit him.

"You're pretty close with Ron?"

Vic smiled, "I'm his and Aunt Hermione's go-to sitter for Rose and Hugo. And growing up they were always my favorite to play with at family gatherings."

"You're Ron's pick for Chief Operating Officer," Ted scribbled down in his notebook again. "He knows he can trust you to handle anything he throws at you. Did you know anything about managing a website before this?"

Vic shrugged, "No, but it wasn't hard to learn. I watched a load of online courses and I've been able to keep it going pretty well after that."

Ted grinned, "We're building this company up Vic, and we didn't even have to do the hard part, we get to jump into the fun and make this happen!"

"Ted," Vic bit her lip, "I was just speculating. I have no idea if I'm right."

Ted shook his head. "But it doesn't matter if you're right or not. Don't you see Vic? Even if this isn't Ron's intention, we can make this his intention. We can make this big enough to be its own company."

Vic shook her head. "Ted, I don't know the first thing about running a company or even what a chief operating officer is."

Ted looked at the clock, it was nearly two and he had a phone meeting scheduled with a client. "What are you doing after work? We can plan this out, I can teach you what we're working towards, give you the vision of where we're heading."

Vic looked at her cell phone for a moment and licked her lips.

Ted guessed she was thinking about Sean. "This would just be work, Vic, we'll even stay here at the office."

"Right," she kept looking at her black phone screen. "Right, ok, I'm free tonight."

"Perfect," Ted tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster. "We'll order some dinner and then we can start mapping this out, make ourselves a plan."

She smiled and looked back at him, "Sounds great."

Ted would have sworn that all of their clients were talking in slow motion as he had his phone meetings throughout the rest of the day. But finally, five rolled around and Teddy felt like he'd won the lottery.

This wasn't a date; he reprimanded his stupid heart. This was a business planning meeting with dinner involved. This wasn't a date.

"What are you in the mood for?" Vic scrolled through the options on her computer.

"I'm not picky, my family has always been pretty adventurous when it comes to food."

"Oh, there's an Indian place the next street over, how does that sound?"

Ted grinned, "Sounds good, but I doubt they'll do as well as my Uncle James."

"Uncle Harry's dad?"

Ted nodded. "Hands down he could out cook the majority of the Indian restaurants in London."

"I'll have to try that sometime then. But what do you want from here?"

They placed their orders and when it came time to enter the payment, Ted pushed her chair so it rolled across the room and quickly typed in his card info and paid.

"I have cash, I can pay you my share." Vic shoved her chair at him.

"How are you going to get me to take your cash? You don't even know my last name." Ted sat back down in his chair and grinned.

"I could stick it in your shirt pocket." She grabbed her purse out of her desk and started counting out the correct number of bills.

"I'll throw it back at you. I'm not the sort of bloke to throw money at women, but when it's her own money I'll make a special exception." Ted put his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair and smirked.

"Here," she stood and slipped the small wad of bills into his shirt pocket.

Ted almost shivered at her touch, but just as soon as she pulled her hand away, he grabbed the money and threw it back at her.

"You're not paying me back."

Vic picked up the money from the floor. "Come on, aren't we supposed to be coworkers?"

"I don't use bills," Ted shrugged, "I'd probably just lose them. It's a waste of your money to pay me back."

"Really, Ted, you can't just go buying me dinner."

"Of course, I can, you don't know my last name, I can get away with almost anything right now," Ted smirked at her.

"You know, all I have to do is find you on the company roster and I'd know your last name."

"Do you know my first name?" Ted kicked his feet out in front of him.

"No, I'm just calling you Ted because it felt right."

Teddy ignored the way his heart beat harder at her wording.

"Ted is a shortened version of my name, and there happens to be more than one name that shortens to Ted." He smirked at her. "The company roster has my full proper name, Weasley."

Vic narrowed her eyes at him. "I could always call Aunt Ginny."

Ted shrugged, "You could, I don't think you will, but you could. She is my godmother, after all, she would definitely want to know why you want to know my full name."

Vic bit her lip. "If I knew your full name would you take the money?"

"Nope," Teddy grinned at the groan Vic let out.

"You are absolutely impossible!"

"Infuriating isn't it? You should meet the men who taught me how to do this."

"You mean there are men out there who teach you to be awful?" Vic kicked half-heartedly at his feet still stretched out near her chair.

"Oh yes, they taught me all of the awful things, like paying for dinner and holding doors open and being kind and saying please and thank you and asking for consent and all the other things that turn you into a right scoundrel."

Vic chuckled, "Sound like a group of tossers."

Ted smiled; the Marauders had their moments.

"They're the best men I know."

"I'd like to meet them someday."

Her voice had a softer quality to it and Ted felt his heart caving into the sound of it combined with the little smile that touched her lips.

"So, keep your money," Ted tried to bring the joking back as he cleared his throat. "Because those same men will kick my arse if you don't."

"That I might pay to see." Vic laughed and put her foot out to tap his.

"So cruel," Ted shook his head.

Then their dinner arrived and Ted was grateful for the interruption. He was quickly finding himself falling fast with Vic and he didn't want to stop himself. This woman was everything he'd ever looked for and he just felt in sync with her. It was easy, too easy. So easy that he was already having to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. She wasn't his. She had a boyfriend. He needed to back off. He needed to stop.

But he didn't. He justified it by telling himself that this opportunity to grow their division into its own operation was too good to pass up. And Vic deserved this. She deserved to see how far she could go. To see that Ron trusted her more than she probably understood. And if he could give her that, well, it would be worth holding himself back, mostly.

"Alright, I'm going to have to roll myself out of here." Vic moved what was left of her food to the fridge. "Let's get started and you can teach me all those things I need to know to help run a start-up."

Ted grinned and put the rest of his food in the fridge with hers.

"Good idea, the sooner we start the better, you don't want to be driving home in the dark." Ted teased.

Vic blushed, "Well, I go home to my parents' so I'd prefer it after dark. Then most everyone is asleep."

"Alright then, I'll make sure to go into great depth and detail to make sure you aren't leaving here until well after sunset. Then you can pretend you bought your childhood home and live alone with your cat."

Vic scoffed, "Do I look like a woman who would own a cat?"

Ted nodded, "Oh yes, you have the crazy cat lady vibe going for you."

Vic threw a napkin at him, "I hate you."

"How can you hate me? You've known me for less than 72 hours." Ted threw the napkin back at her.

"You just called me a crazy cat lady!"

"No, I said you had the vibe for it," Ted kicked her foot from under the card table. "I'm sure you'll not end up alone without anyone to fill the companionship void but a cat."

"You don't like cats?" Vic kicked his foot back.

"Cats are alright, but I'm not much of a pet person. I like Uncle Sirius' dog well enough, but pets seem like a lot of work for a lot of feedback that doesn't appeal to me. I don't find joy in sitting with a dog or a cat. And I don't really like watching anything you'd keep in an atrium."

"Do you want kids then? Or are they like pets?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ted laughed. "Having kids is completely different than having pets. Kids are little humans that you get to help grow and here's the best part, kids ultimately can handle their bowel movements without any help from me."

Vic's laughter came bursting out of her and Ted couldn't help but admire the way she looked so happy.

"But, yeah, I'm looking forward to being a dad." He rubbed the back of his neck to keep his hand from reaching across the table for her.

Vic's smile went just a touch sad and Ted frowned.

"Hey, you alright?"

She sighed, "Yeah, just wish more blokes were like you."

Ted's heart flipped in his chest.

"But that's neither here nor there," Vic pulled her notepad to her. "Let's get down to business."

Ted blinked, "Er, right."

Ted moved to retrieve his notebook and felt a small smile tug at his lips. Because Vic said she wished more guys were like him, and Ted hoped the underlying message was she wished Sean were like him. Or maybe that he was in Sean's place.

He was so screwed.

#Endeavor #tedoire #tedoire fanfic #tedoire fanfiction #tedoire au #tedoire muggle au #teddy x victoire #ted x vic #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #teddy lupin x victoire weasley #romance #fluff #muggle au #harry potter fanfiction #coworkers romance

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toledoendo · 4 years

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You’ll Rise Up, Free and Easy

This is the second story in my series Amphora, an alternate-reality historical fan fiction based on the characters Tony Stark and Peter Parker from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The characters’ personalities remain mostly intact, but I’ve inserted them into my own reality for them. The series is set at the turn of the 20th Century.

This story is considerably darker than the first; it follows Tony Stark’s difficult childhood. Please exercise safe reading-- the story is not meant to hurt anybody!

I’ve used this platform to purge some personal demons through the metaphor of child abuse. Keep yourself safe and feel free to read the next story in the series (at this time, it is unwritten) as it will not have that focus.

Story Summary: Peter Parker, a brilliantly talented ceramicist-in-training, has been Tony Stark's apprentice for ten days. To his delight, he's able to work closely with Tony and begins to learn more about him and bond with him. However, just as it seems that they are becoming an established part of each other's lives, tragedy puts distance between them.Peter strives to be a source of comfort and support for Tony during a season of grieving, adapting how he shows love to the ways Tony knows how to accept it.

Read the story after the break.

Chapter One: “Chokeberry and Baby Cheeks”

Early May, 1868

“Young Sir?” Jarvis peered around the trunk of a young chokeberry tree at the youth who was crouching in the knoll at its roots. He stepped around, keeping a gingerly distance for he could see that the boy was vulnerable, like a raw nerve.

Tony, blushing from exertion and violence, sat panting a few moments longer, ignoring Jarvis. He clutched at his right fist which was torn across the knuckles. Sweat was heavy on his face and neck and the smell, like well water, hung on him. There was blood peeking under his nose, a thin film across his teeth, as well as a cut on his left eyebrow.

Finally, Tony swallowed to force the remaining moisture evenly in his dry mouth and said, “Is Father going to be home tonight?”

Jarvis removed a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to him. “To my knowledge.” When Tony didn’t take the handkerchief, Jarvis pressed it under his nose himself. Tony resisted, but ceased struggling almost immediately. “Perhaps, though, when he arrives tonight, you’ll already be in bed, Young Sir.”

Tony looked up at him and said in a questioning way, as though expecting betrayal. “You’ll tell him.” Then he added, without waiting for an answer, “Damn British butlers and their sensibilities…” Tony took over the pressure on the handkerchief and Jarvis stood upright again.

Jarvis said sternly, “Let’s leave damnation to the clergy, shall we, sir? Unless you’re studying to become one?”

Tony scoffed then lowered his gaze deferentially.

Offering a hand, Jarvis said, “Strand up, please; crouching on the ground like a gopher is not dignified for a young man.” Jarvis noticed Tony roll his eyes as he obeyed; the butler stifled a smile. The boy pinched the handkerchief and removed it. Jarvis saw with relief that his nose was not bleeding anymore.

When Tony was standing before him, meeting his eyes, Jarvis leaned toward him confidentially. “As far as a British butler’s sensibilities are concerned, I am your father’s servant, not a spy. I have no inclination to report your behavior only for the sake of it.”

Tony listened, blinking at him passively.

Jarvis’s voice softened. “The only time I might do so is if I deem your actions would lead you to greater danger than you would receive at Master Stark’s hands. Are we at an understanding?”

At this Tony smirked and Jarvis nodded in a decisive manner. “Besides, any injurious behavior I witness from you, I shouldn’t wonder to think that we two could reach an understanding without need to concern your father.” He gave Tony a poignant look. “Do you agree, sir?”

This time Tony nodded but still smirked. He seemed to remember the times Jarvis could have handed him over to Howard, but didn’t. That was good enough for the boy to trust him. On those occasions, Jarvis would let him explain himself, rant, cry, and blame others, firmly correcting him if he was disrespectful, but otherwise allowing him to fully express his grievances. Then, he would speak to Tony solemnly but patiently, like he was a man.

“Now,” Jarvis said, shifting to a more curious tone, “might you inform me what foreign object collided with your face so as to leave you in such a state? Perhaps also, what response to the object you gave?”

Tony erupted. “I was trying to keep these boys from carving up my friend’s tree!” Unleashing his pent up desperation caused Tony’s voice to crack. His hand swung wide behind him to indicate the chokeberry tree. “He told them not to and they keep coming back to do it anyway! And they laughed about it because they knew it upset him. He’s real keen on this tree for some reason.”

“Your friend, Master Potts?” Jarvis asked.

Tony nodded. He huffed and tried to hide his emotion by chewing on his lip. There were little tears at the corners of his eyes. He was much more comfortable showing anger than any other emotion, even joy. Often he would mask his feelings with shouts, huffs, shoves, scowls, glares— or sarcasm and jokes, which Jarvis considered a “creative form of aggression.” Of course, if his father were around, he adopted a sullen disposition, or, at times, was an avatar of Howard Stark’s own persona. When Howard was away, his son became Tony again -- guarded, but more volatile. However, Jarvis had a talent for flaying the rage from the sadness or fear underneath.

“The other boys wish to carve it, you say?”

“Yes, you know, Jarvis, like their initials or something, like people do.”

“I see, sir,” Jarvis said and paused to think. He looked at the chokeberry tree; it was still a sapling, though nearly mature. The foamy white buds swayed in their clusters in the Northern wind.

Tony also turned and looked at the tree. “Samuel thinks the flowers look like lace. He’s kind of silly, but a good kid .”

Jarvis was slightly amused by Tony’s condescending use of the term “kid” when he was scarcely eleven years old himself. “A special tree indeed, sir. However, I couldn’t advise you to endeavor to stop them by force.”

Tony shuffled. Though he rolled his eyes, Jarvis felt respect in him, so he continued. “Or your fists for that matter.”

“We ought to put up a wall.” Tony muttered. “With barbed wire.”

“A creative solution, though, it would quite obstruct the view, wouldn’t you agree?” Jarvis deadpanned.

Tony sighed through his nose. “What about a trapping pit, then?”

Jarvis examined the grass stains on the knees of Tony’s trousers. “Better widen the scope of your innovation, Young Sir.” He replied absently while considering how he could clean the blood from the shirt and jacket so that Mrs. Stark wouldn’t notice. She kept strict inventory of her son’s wardrobe, particularly when they were abroad, as they were now.

Then, he remarked, catching Tony off guard, “I am pleased to see you’ve made such an important friend here, sir.”

Tony sniffed and shrugged. After a couple kicks at the ground beneath, he said: “Jarvis, I’m hungry. Is it luncheon yet?”

“You should just have time to bathe and make yourself presentable, sir.”

Jarvis led him back to the Starks’ Toronto estate by a covered path in the garden that was seldom used so no one would see the rough condition he was in.

January, 1903

When Peter threw open the front door of his and May’s house in Queens, Tony couldn’t help but notice the cotton scarf wrapped over his ears. “Mr. Stark! Come see how my latest test glaze turned out, sir!” He stepped quickly out of the way so Tony could enter and held out his arms to take his mentor’s coat, muffler, and hat. “I’ve decided to leave off on the layerings of celadon and copper red glazes and am trying some strike firing techniques with a different glaze mixture.”

Tony’s brow knotted in concern, but he remarked, lightly, “Interesting head adornment, Ms. Mozart. Do you have a toothache?”

Peter touched the thin cloth around his head. “Oh. No, May wants me to wear this to keep my ears warm.” He added, as though trying not to lie: “I’ve had an earache the past few days.”

“Small wonder!” Tony scolded. “I seem to recall you running around most of Christmas week in the icy wind with no hat. Probably blew all manner of viruses into your empty head!”

Peter looked at him unhappily. “But! I’m not contagious, the doctor says. I don’t even have a fever! Anymore.”

Failing to hide his amusement as Peter fell over himself verbally, Tony waited and said, “Easy Pete. No one’s planning to take you behind the barn and shoot you.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’ll get you sick, Mr. Stark.” Peter said. “I’ve been so looking forward to experimenting with you on peach bloom glaze. And, well…” A look of contrition contorted his face. As he began wringing his hands, Tony removed his coat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. It’s selfish of me.”

Tony hung his hat on the hook and then placed a hand on Peter’s head, tousling the scarf along with his curls. “You can’t run me off so easily, kid. I’m not worried over earaches.”

Peter grinned and led him through the hall and dining room, into the kitchen and to the scullery, his little ceramics alcove.

“Read me the recipe notes for this one,” Tony said. He tapped one of the five flat slats of clay arranged before him. The tiles reminded him of dominoes and he came to enjoy the plink clink sound when he handled them. On each was the same glaze mixture but each had undergone a variant firing schedule.

Peter hurriedly finished chewing a piece of sponge candy so he could complete the request. Tony had brought over a box of the candy as a treat while they worked. (“Pepper would like you to believe this is a present from her , but, as I am the one who brought it to you, and in this weather, I think the credit is due to me. So, you’re welcome.”)

Peter leafed through his small notebook. “For this test,” Peter read, “Gerstley Borate, 10.7%; Whiting, 10.7%; NC-4 Feldspar, 40.3%...” Tony nodded as he listened. He plucked the tile from the table and rubbed his thumb over it absently. Peter finished. “Then I added the tin oxide.”

“What percentage to the mixture?” Tony asked. He returned the tile and picked up his favorite. The freckling green, created by the high reduction period of the firing, spider-crawled through the patchy blush of peach. It truly bid his heart to rush at the beauty.

“.5% but I’m thinking of adding a higher percentage next test.”

Tony smiled and looked at him. “Why’s that?”

Peter was leaning eagerly toward him across the table, resting most of his weight on his elbows beneath him. Like a small animal, his eyes were round and animated as he piped: “More tin oxide will create a milkier effect on the glaze. Right?”

Proudly, Tony nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Peter seemed to realize that his mentor was pleased with him and he ducked his head, grinning. It was such an unrestrained expression of delight that Tony looked away. Peter had received so little guidance from his previous master that the kid was starved for feedback. Blessed now with more attention, Peter was accelerating in his pursuit of the craft.

Tucking away a surge of affection for the boy, Tony followed up, confirming, “That’s the effect your artistic little heart is set on, right?”

Peter chose another piece of sponge candy from the box. “Yes,” he said and Tony caught how that dreaminess he sometimes got began to cloud his eyes. “The glaze is meant to resemble a ripening peach, sir, with green mottles on a blushing pink.” Peter crunched the candy contemplatively then spread his fingers over his cheeks. “Well, I was very much hoping for a kind of baby’s cheeks look.”

“Baby’s cheeks?” Tony asked and he took some candy, too. “Is that a technical term? Or one of your isms?”

Peter blushed in answer. “Do you know what I mean, Mr. Stark?” He pantomimed a moment, to illustrate his words. “Have you ever held a baby close and looked at their cheeks?”

A slight twitch ran across Tony’s face, but he answered, unaffectedly, “Yes, kid, I have had occasion to see a human in infancy.”

Clicking his tongue, Peter replied, “That’s not what I meant, Mr. Stark.” He mined again, as though it would help. His nose nuzzled into the crook of his elbow. “Have you seen how a baby’s cheeks are so fair that their skin mottles when warm? And they get so rosy, sir?”

“Do they?” Tony said. He was trying to be patient with Peter’s reverie. Normally, he would sit back and enjoy the funny expression on the kid’s face and the rambling explanations for his thoughts that only made it more challenging to understand how his mind worked, but this was a tender subject for Tony.

He and Pepper were unable to have children, except through adoption. Pepper was anguished by the idea, though, so they never had. Instead, they supported and improved the orphanages and children’s homes of New York as well as they could, as benefactors.

“My friend, Ned— his mother had a baby a couple years back, with his step-father and she let me hold her— well, actually his mother had me and Ned hold her for a few hours while she cleaned and mended and took a nap and cooked… but, his sister was pretty as a picture, sir! Her cheeks would go dusky when she cried and they looked like red onions.” He laughed. “It wasn’t a nice sound she made, though.”

Tony regarded him with a gnarled expression. “You’re a rare one, kid. Not many find the inherent attractiveness of colic.”

“Will you and Mrs. Stark have a baby, Mr. Stark?”

Bucking a little, Tony reminded himself that this was a harmless question. Peter was silly-hearted and likely excited by the prospect of a child entering his life, even by some distant channel. Tony composed the ache in his chest. He sniffed and said, “Not likely. My lifestyle is not very conducive for raising a kid. Besides, I have my hands full as it is.”

Peter blinked. He said, “With what?” Innocence was plain on his face.

“With what?” Tony snorted indignantly.

“With me?” Peter asked, even more innocently.

Tony pushed out of his seat and marched across the floor. “Bonehead! I do have a life beyond you and your ceramics. I am a very busy inventor, businessman, and philanthropist. You may have heard.”

Peter stared at him, perplexed.

Tony turned back. His arms flapped at his sides as a segue. “Well, are we going to increase the amount of tin oxide or should I return to my heavily-booked agenda? I’m sure Pepper would not mind having me chained back in the office, if you have no more need of my time.”

“Yes, sir!” Peter said. He managed to hide his smile from his flustered mentor as he donned his apron.

#Amphora #You'll Rise Up Free and Easy

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ars-simia-animus · 4 years

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You’ll Rise Up, Free and Easy