Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter Parker prided himself on being a decent problem solver. School projects, science experiments, superhero emergencies—he had a solid track record. So naturally, planning a surprise birthday party for Tony Stark should have been simple.

Mistake number one: Trusting Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers with any part of the plan.
Mistake number two: Not factoring in Tony’s chronic inability to be surprised.

The disaster began with the decorations. Peter had given the bots very simple instructions: hang a “Happy Birthday, Tony!” banner and scatter a reasonable number of balloons. He had foolishly believed this was within their skill set.

He was wrong.

Dum-E somehow tangled himself inside the banner, his arm flailing as though it was fighting for its life. U misunderstood “scatter” and launched balloons at high velocity, one ricocheting off Peter’s forehead, and Butterfingers had dumped an entire bucket of glitter onto the workbench for no discernible reason. There was so much glitter. It clung to Peter’s shirt like he’d lost a fight with a craft store, and U, seemingly enchanted by his handiwork, continued launching balloons with increasingly aggressive precision.

Friday’s voice hummed overhead, as calm and unbothered as ever. “Would you like me to assist in this cleanup effort, Mr. Parker? Or should I simply notify Mr. Stark of your artistic interpretation of ‘decorating’?”

Peter groaned. “I can fix this.”

He could not fix this.

The cake was next. He had baked Tony a simple chocolate cake. But the moment Peter had set the batter in the oven, the bots’ decided baking was their mission now. Dum-E attempted to frost the raw batter, U brought out a welding torch, and Butterfingers—God help him—mistook salt for sugar.

Then, because fate was cruel and Peter was apparently destined for failure, the cake exploded.

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence, the scent of burnt chocolate globs clinging to everything.

Then Dum-E, ever the enthusiastic problem solver, grabbed the fire extinguisher and unleashed a foam storm upon the crime scene.

Peter coughed through the rapidly expanding cloud. “Dum-E, I don’t think cake counts as a fire hazard.”

Dum-E beeped resolutely and sprayed more extinguisher foam, coating Peter’s shoes and the entire remains of the failed dessert. Butterfingers, apparently inspired, nudged the deflated balloon toward the foam, as if contributing to the effort.

Friday’s voice chimed in smoothly. “You do recall that Mr. Stark has multiple fire suppression systems, yes?”

Peter stared at the oven, where questionable smoke still curled toward the ceiling, the remnants of the cake now buried in extinguisher foam. He sighed. “I think Dum-E has that covered.” Peter snarked wiping the foam from his face.

Against all odds, the surprise was still happening. The moment Tony walked into the lab, everyone—Peter, the bots, even Friday—would shout "Surprise!" and Tony would be shocked.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Okay, almost certainly not.

The lab doors slid open, and Tony Stark stepped in. He took exactly three seconds to survey the scene—the half-burned banner, the balloon stuck to Dum-E’s claw, the glitter-covered workbench, and the frosting-coated wreckage of his small lab kitchen—and exhaled dramatically.

Before anyone could speak, Butterfingers launched a balloon at Tony’s face.

“You know,” he drawled, crossing his arms, “when I said I wanted an exciting birthday, I meant champagne and supermodels, not flaming cake debris and homicidal balloons.”

Peter threw his hands up. “Okay, in theory, this was supposed to go better!”

Friday’s voice was entirely unimpressed. “In practice, your optimism was misplaced.”

Tony stared at the disaster before him. Then—slowly, inevitably—a smirk tugged at his lips. “Alright, kid. Tell me—which one of my bots caused the most destruction?”

Dum-E, now tangled in two banners and clutching a frosting-coated wrench, beeped innocently.

Tony sighed, shaking his head fondly. “Honestly? This is the best surprise I could’ve asked for.”

Peter groaned. “Of course it is.”