<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">"Oh, don't call me sir," Fleinhardt protested, waving a hand in the air.  "Professor is fine."  Tony hid a smile.  "We work on all manner of projects here -- this is the cream of the crop of Stark Industries' most forward thinking engineers, mathematicians, and astrophysicists."<br/>
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"They're the chief nerds," Tony added, grinning.  "And Doctor Fleinhardt's the nerdiest among them."  He leaned closer to Peter.  "He spent time on the International Space Station even.  You're looking at a bonafide astronaut, kid."<br/>
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Fleinhardt flapped his hands.  "That's unimportant.  Why, you've been to space too, Mister Stark.  It's nothing special."<br/>
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Tony's trip to space had not been planned, voluntary, or pleasant -- but he let that go for now.  "Petey's hoping for a sample of those new polymers you're working with.  His research is classified, Avengers-only... but when it's ready for peer review, I hope I can count on you?"<br/>
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"Oh, certainly!"  Fleinhardt beamed.  "Always willing to critique your work, Mister Stark.  Or your young protege, I suppose."  He ran a hand through his thinning hair.  "Now, which lab is the plastics... seventeen, I believe.  Feel free to interrupt Otto -- just be aware, he'll talk your ear off."<br/>
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Tony grinned at Peter.  "I'm getting used to that myself.  C'mon, kid... let's go raid the cookie jar."</span></span>