independent, highly selective edwin jarvis of marvel comics’ earth-616. this is not the ai from the mcu, and it’s not the edwin jarvis found in the agent carter show.  edwin’s history, relationships, and characterization come from marvel comics’ main continuity (earth-616) with a heavy focus on his appearances in the classic, pre-heroes reborn (1996) era.  does not include the events of secret empire (2016) or tony stark: iron man (2018).

rules

He has the decency to blush, though the little smile doesn’t disappear from his face. There were a lot of pros to being engaged. All of them were Tony, of course, and a few of them had been explored this morning. But while Tony slept it off, Steve had figured that could count as a light workout and got himself cleaned up and ready to mostly start the day.

“No alarms, no crying babies, no lab explosions. A rare and silent night.” Steve washed his hands dutifully, drying them off before holding them up like a surgeon, stepping in front of the bowl of bananas. One by one he peeled them, pausing at the end to toss away the peels before b-lining for the coffee. After pouring a cup he wiggled an extra one to see if Jarvis would want any.

“What’re we making and where did you learn it?”

Edwin considered a moment and then held up a thumb and a finger about an inch apart, indicating he’d both let Steve handle the carafe on his own (a mighty feat of restraint) and would, in fact, take a small cup of coffee.  He made it, after all, so he knew it was neither ulcer-inducing or unpalettable for the average individual.  Once he’d been invited to partake at the Baxter Building and had wished fervently he’d politely declined, after both sampling it and learning it had been made by Mr. Fantastic.  That was the day he learned that sludge passing more for motor oil than coffee was not just a Tony Stark specialty.

“I thought I might add banana nut muffins to the offerings today, they were getting a bit overripe.”  And then he added on, a bit wryly, “The recipe comes from that long honored tradition of reading the back of the King Arthur flour packaging.”

Old timey, she says.  Ah, the foolishness and shortsightedness of youth, unaware that soon enough, twenty years will have flitted by almost unnoticed and they, too, will find themselves taken aback at having things that seem like they were only yesterday be referred to as old.  But that is a lesson Miss Bishop will have to learn the hard way, he’s afraid, and a hard one it is to learn, indeed.

“All of the photographs of previous teams are special, Miss Bishop.”  That’s equanimous, at any rate.  And they are all special, in their own ways, but he’s fairly sure he’s keen on what she’s actually asking.  He hums a moment while taking time to meticulously baste the roast in the pan he’s been getting ready for dinner (and despite what Tony Stark may say, he might not have to these days, with the house no longer being a headquarters of a team, it gives him something to do and ensures he, Captain Rogers, and the young Miss Halley aren’t ordering out...again).  “One only has to look on the walls of the mansion and find them, going back to the earliest days, when I’m afraid to say none of us really knew what we were doing until we were doing it.”

Professional courtesy dictates to not indicate he’s aware of what that awkward little pause covers, nor why the good Captain is finding his way into the kitchen well past his custom.  That being said, at the moment there is nothing professional about his making breakfast in the kitchen, this is simply old habit.  While the mansion may no longer be Avengers Mansion, there are certainly enough Avengers past and present that manage to find their way here at meal times and...

Well.  Truth be told, after the peanut butter incident involving Clint Barton (for which he will certainly have to devise a suitable punishment), it seems safer to have things on hand with which to distract the troublemakers of the bunch.  The bananas have been looking a bit overly ripe, so he’s thought to add banana nut muffins to today’s offerings.

“Good morning, Captain.  I trust you...Slept well?”  He is not asking what it may seem like he’s asking and he can only pray Steve Rogers remains as he always has and has not, for instance, decided to take lessons from Clint Barton on oversharing in every department of his personals. 

things to take away from this: 1. steve rogers is such a little shit and he knows he’s stirring the pot 2. avengers holiday family dinners 3. jarvis and jan have had this back and forth for years

Working with the Avengers (he has never presumed to count himself among them, though many have insisted he should be) over the years has taught him that the universe is a varied, wondrous place, full of people with all manner of notions of propriety.  It has led to some crossing of wires from time to time, where what is considered polite in one corner of the cosmos may not be so in another.  He can write those things off.

This, however.  This is not one of those things.

The only outward sign he’s even taken notice is the way he pauses - he’s only come to offer tea or coffee, as is standard with guests.

“I have known Thor for many years,” he begins, mentally rescinding that offer of a drink.  “He was, as I’m sure you are aware, one of the founders of this lauded group and the reason that those he extends hospitality to, so do I.” 

.     last time someone charged that much for tea, we threw it in a harbor // bloody right!  someone ought to pitch a load of this in the hudson.

"Be that as it may."  He's already helped raise one living embodiment of human chaos, though he prefers to think of it as being a guiding hand to redirect those...Mischievous impulses; he can't say he's always been successful in that endeavor, considering not an hour previous that particular whirlwind had emerged from the downstairs workshop covered in soot (excepting where goggles had, presumably, been in use, by the clean streak over his eyes) and wild-eyed with elation, claiming he'd 'done it', whatever it happens to be, leaving dirty footprints and fingerprints on everything he'd come into contact with, though the evidence of that particular mishap has long since vanished.

Edwin hasn't asked.  If there's one thing he's certain of, it's that sometimes there are things he is absolutely better off knowing.

"While I sympathize that you and Mr. Stark were not aware of the oncoming change in your familial status when picking paints for the walls, Captain, I would feel remiss to not remind you that little hands are often most dangerous while idle, and where there are reachable walls, crayons will always find them."

In short:  He's not going to be the one to tell Mr. Stark that little Miss Halley has managed to leave glorious red and purple scribbles on the sitting room's painted walls, that's going to be on Steve Rogers.

oh my god is that.  is that tony’s graduation picture?