"Thwip!" Peter's webbing came down from the ceiling, snagging a couple of books Cap had been referencing.
Cap turned around, not really in fighting stance; he was tired and although he hadn't detected Peter's presence until a second before, it was immediately clear who he was dealing with. "Peter!" Concern mingled with annoyance on his face and in his voice.
"See, I meant it about carrying your books." He swung down into a more human posture, looping the webbing into a semblance of an old schoolbag. "Wherever you want 'em, I'll bring 'em. I'd offer you my class ring, too, but I think it got left in an apartment that got blown up three apartments ago."
Cap now looked concerned and confused. "Is there something you'd like to talk about? I know you left your wife and aunt behind, we're trying to figure out how to protect them best...."
Peter squirmed, which meant, in his case, literally crawling up a few walls and switching from vertical to horizontal to upside down a few times. "No, just being friendly. And, well, I *know* you slept through the 1950s, but I don't really know how to make up to a 1930s or 40s boy, except maybe coming into your private eye's office with a case and I've sort of already done that and really the brightly-colored costumes spoil the whole effect and what *did* you do for fun where you come from, I mean, when you come from?"
Cap looked up and down and sideways and generally looked like he needed a cup of coffee, some asprin, and a good long sleep, and possibly--were he not, actually, Captain America--a drink. "I, well. Drew a lot, actually. Watched movies, when I had the time and money. Played ball in the streets. Listened to the radio. Mostly I was pretty busy trying to support myself during the depression."
"Oh right, right. Bad old days and all that." Peter fidgeted back and forth across the walls some more.
Cap had a headache already, and it was maddening. "Hold still!" He caught Peter by the shoulder midswing.
Peter placed his feet on the ground and held still for all of several seconds. "Sorry, sir."
"Don't call me sir." Cap resisted the urge to rub his temples. "Now--what do you want?"
"Um." Peter tried, but basically did not succeed, in not moving, although he made no move to escape Cap's grip. "Would you like to have coffee with me? In the bunker, that is; I'd take you out somewhere but I don't think you really want a superhero battle with your coffee even if all the really *good* coffee seems to be pro-reg or well if you're busy maybe I can just have some sent here you do kind of look like you need it...."
"Yes. Come on, son."
"Yes?" Peter swung the books under his arm and skipped out in front of Cap, then came back to his side. "I can walk on the floor if you'd prefer."
"As you like."