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With his suit, snacks, two new comic-books, and five water bottles chaotically shoved into his official Iron-Man-branded backpack, Peter exited the elevator on the executive suite with a spring in his step. Mister Stark didn’t have any meetings or phone calls scheduled that afternoon, which meant they could go out for lunch together! As much as Peter loved his new family, he was excited to have some one-on-one time with his mentor that wasn’t working in the labs. He skipped down the corridor, thoughts exploding with ideas on where they should go and what they should eat, when his feet slammed to a sudden halt.
The reception’s desk was empty, and snooping around it were two people that definitely should not have been there.
“Excuse me.” Peter’s chipper voice cut through the air; disguising the anger that bubbled and boiled beneath his skin. “Can I help you?”
They turned — they being one Natasha “Black Widow” Romanoff and one Clint “Hawkeye” Barton; both looking out of place in casual clothes, and lacking visible weapons.
“Ah, an intern.” Black Widow murmured to Hawkeye, before returning her attention back to Peter. “Could you tell us, where Tony Stark’s office is, please?”
Peter clenched his jaw — yeah, right, as if he would ever take those traitors to his mentor! Peter did his best not to audibly scoff at her audacity to ask him such a question. “Have you scheduled a meeting with Mister Stark?” He asked. It was a miracle he wasn’t shaking.
“No, but we are… old friends, and it is important that we spe—“
“I highly doubt you have anything of importance to say to Mister Stark, Ms Romanoff.” Peter finally snapped. “You are a traitor, not a friend.” He then turned to Hawkeye. “I see Captain America has you breaking your house arrest to be his messenger pigeon.” Peter spat Steve’s title like the war criminal he was. “Or do you prefer being on the run, away from your kids?”
Their faces changed. “His sentence was pardoned when we returned to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Black Widow snapped back, eyes sharp and jaw tightened. “Beside, that is none of your concern nor business, k—“
“Kid?” Peter huffed. “Was that what you were going to say? That I’m just a kid and ‘there’s a lot going on here that I don't understand’?” He parroted back Steve’s words. “Wow. I see how it is. You run off after Uncle Rhodey falls out of the goddamn sky, and suddenly you know everything, and I know nothing? Even though I’m the one that had to watch Team Iron fall apart from afar, the one that was sleeping in hospital rooms, and helping Uncle Rhodey to walk again, and holding Mister Stark as he cried himself to sleep? Yeah, likely story!”
Hawkeye, the more reserved of the two traitors, raised an eyebrow at his outburst, and mouthed a soft, surprised “Uncle Rhodey?” to his partner.
“Look.” Black Widow stressed, taking a step forward. “That is not—“
“Get away from him!” Someone interrupted.
The three Avengers turned toward the sound, coming face-to-face with one furiously protective Happy Hogan.
He stormed over, grabbing Peter by the arm, and yanking him behind his broad frame. “You shouldn’t be here.” He growled in Black Widow’s face, Happy’s grip unwavering around Peter’s arm, as he stood his ground. “All the Rogue’s are on the no-entry list. How did you get in?”
“‘Snuck around security, and our cards still let us through.” Hawkeye muttered, before getting nudged by an unhappy Black Widow.
“It doesn’t matter how we got here, Hogan, we just want to speak to—“
“Hah!” Happy huffed. “No chance you’re speaking to boss. Get. Out. Before I have to call my team to drag you out of the front door, or better yet, to throw you out the top floor window!”
“Happy…” Hawkeye trailed off, quietly.
His face didn’t soften. “You made your choice, Barton. Beat it.”
Black Widow and Hawkeye held their ground.
Happy took out his phone, and began to type.
Black Widow exhaled a begrudged sigh.
Hawkeye turned toward her and waited for further instruction.
Black Widow shook her head.
Happy and Peter glared as they silently walked out.
“Should we tell Mister Stark?” Peter asked, once he heard the elevator ping.
Happy finally let go, and let out a deep sigh. “I suppose we have to, kid.”