Chapter Text
The thing is, Tony never means for any of this to happen.
It starts, simply enough, with the failed sale of the Tower. Negotiations stall when the buyer starts questioning whether the state-of-the-art network and power systems are worth the entirety of the extra $250 million on top of the base estimate of half a billion dollars (after being designed by yours truly, you bet your ass, they are, Tony thinks with a disdainful sniff). Still, this is just a hiccup, Tony thinks – he’s been through enough business deals to know that there’s always a bit of haggling until he figures out what they really want and uses that to charm the pants off of them until they agree to a sale.
But then the incident with the Vulture and the plane happens and, despite the fact that Stark Industries is halfway moved out the building, the buyer pulls out, citing “security concerns related to unforeseen externalities” – which really is just business speak for they don’t want to buy a place supervillains might be drawn to because the Avengers used to live there.
Well, shit, is the first thought Tony has when he gets the email from Legal alerting him that the buyer is backing out. It’s Pepper who immediately follows up with questions regarding what happened – trying to problem solve, as always, just one of the many reasons he loves her – but Tony’s already moved past what happened.
Instead, he’s trying to figure out the best way to split SI operations between the Tower and the Avengers’ Compound. And, as he does, this thought floats through the back of his mind: well, it’ll make it easier to keep an eye on the kid.
The kid, also known as one Peter Parker. 15 years old, sophomore at Midtown School of Science and Technology by day, the vigilante known as Spider-Man by night….
And one of the only children Tony’s ever met that doesn’t immediately trigger his flight response and the only kid where the idea of spending any time with him doesn’t fill him with mild disgust. Because, ask anyone: Tony Stark and kids do not go together. After all, the media’s been chasing any rumor of a love child for years as a cover for stating explicitly just how unfit Tony is to interact with children at all.
And so you see, dear readers, this is where our story really begins: Tony Stark, notoriously adverse to kids of any kind, suddenly finds the idea of spending time with one kid in particular… not the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might even be kind of ok.
And, the thing is, regardless of whether Tony wants to or not, he kinda has to spend time with Peter. Not long after Peter takes down Toomes in that horrible, ridiculous onesie, Tony gives Peter back the multi-million dollar Spider-Man suit he built and it only takes one day for Peter to blow his cover with his Aunt May (seriously, Tony’s going to have to work with Peter on his situational awareness – one of these days, kid’s gonna get caught changing in an alley and then where will they be?).
It takes weeks for Tony’s ears to stop feeling like they’ve been blistered after the righteous tear May lays into him. And, after all is said and done, Tony finds himself having promised May Parker that he will look after her dear nephew. “You got him into this, Stark. You’re going to damn well make sure he makes it out.” Ok, in his defense, Peter was doing the whole superhero thing long before Tony showed up with the assist, but Tony takes May’s point: he’s outfitting the kid and encouraging him, so Tony has to act like the adult and take some responsibility.
So, responsibility Tony takes.
And the first step of taking responsibility is changing up the lines of communication. For the past few months, Tony’s been having Happy act as an intermediary, handling the day-to-day monitoring. But, given the trouble Peter seems prone to finding himself in, it’s time to call in the big guns and get directly involved himself, cut out the middleman and all that shit.
“FRIDAY, start a new message to Peter Parker and then sync it and his contact to my phone under my personal contacts. Tell him: Hey Underoos, was thinking of making some upgrades to your suit. Want to swing by the Tower when I assume you’re no longer grounded?” Tony figures Peter has to be grounded, if the way May yelled at Tony is anything to go by.
FRIDAY, being the beautiful, dutiful AI that she is, doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Done, boss. I will let you know when Peter replies.”
“That’s my girl,” Tony mutters absently. Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’d do if not for the AI, sometimes. Especially in times like this when he’s elbows-deep in tearing apart and reconstructing the engine of a 1968 Shelby GT500 he won at auction that he’s restoring.
Sometimes, Tony thinks he would be happy if he could just build or tinker or take apart and fix all day long. He’s infinitely more comfortable in his workshop or his garage, hands covered in grease and wearing beat up jeans and a grimy t-shirt, than he is in a boardroom or ballroom. And, normally he’d be holed up in his workshop, his go-to place for when he’s trying to figure out an answer to a problem.
But the problem he’s trying to solve is how to optimize SI’s operations between two locations when they’d only been planning on one (and because Tony’s not gonna try putting the Tower back on the market – buyers that can afford near billion dollar properties are far and few between, so why bother?). So the workshop, as glorious as it is, is a direct reminder of the problem, which defeats the purpose of getting wrapped up in something completely different while his brain works on the problem in the background until the elegant solution pierces through the fog and reaffirms that he is, indeed, one of the smartest people on the face of the planet.
So, garage it is, getting down and dirty with engines and grease while he makes the first real overtures to who he fears is going to become his superhero mentee, a kid who Tony predicts will be texting him back in less than a minute, if his normal excitement levels are anything to go by.
But Peter doesn’t text back in less than a minute. Tony’s not sure how much time passes, but he knows a good amount of time does because of how much progress he’s made in disassembling the engine, all the while marveling in disgust at just how horribly it’s been maintained – what, they use maple syrup for motor oil, or something? jesus fucking christ, Tony thinks with a shake of his head – by the time FRIDAY pipes back up.
“Boss, Peter has responded to your text message. Would you like me to read it aloud?”
Tony’s already reaching for a rag to wipe off his hands before he grabs his phone, so he just shakes his head. “Nah, FRI, I’ll check it out myself.”
“If you say so, Boss.”
Sheesh, the snark in that one, is Tony’s smirking thought as he tosses aside the grease rag and grabs his phone off the nearby workbench to see Peter’s response.
Peter Parker:
omg mr stark is this really u??? dont tell me this is a prank
Tony rolls his eyes at the typical Millennial or Gen Z (or whatever generation Peter is) spelling and lack of punctuation.
Me:
Yes, it’s me. Who else would call you ‘Underoos’? You better not be cheating on me with other superheroes, kid.
Peter Parker:
omg srsly??? i can come over and work on the suit? mr stark, this is so cool 🥺
ugh, wait, ignore the emoji. you probably dont use emojis
By this point, Tony’s trying to hold back his laughter, despite the fact that no one’s around to hold it back from.
Me:
Peter, emojis are fine. Besides, I’m cool. I can use emojis. 😎
Peter Parker:
no one uses that emoji anymore, mr stark. its not cool anymore
Me:
Says you, you heathen. And how dare you insinuate I’m not cool. I could sue you for that, you know. 😎
Peter Parker:
no, im being serious! pls stop using that emoji. its just embarrassing now
Me:
I won’t take advice on being cool from someone who still needs to ask permission to leave the house. Anyway, come over to the Tower whenever, just let me know.
And, just for the record: 😎😎😎😎✌️
Peter Parker:
😭
The single emoji response draws a peal of laughter out of Tony and he sets his phone down with a smile, shaking his head a little at the strangeness of Peter Parker. What a kid.
Tony goes back to work on the engine restoration after that and, a couple of days later, he both has a solution to how to split up operations between two locations – all government contracts and Avengers related work will move out to the Compound, while everything else will remain in the Tower, including all the corporate support functions – and he has a date set for the following week for Peter to come over to the lab to work on the suit.
It goes a little something like this: Peter comes over to the Tower and the wide-eyed awe and admiration painted stark on his face at Tony’s private workshop brings a genuine smile to Tony’s face and, without even stopping to second guess himself, he finds himself extending another invitation to come back the following week at the end of their two hour session (May’s only stipulation to Peter coming over was that he be home in time for dinner). The invitation quickly turns into a regular, weekly session and as they approach 6 weeks in a row of Peter coming over to work with Tony in his lab, Tony finds it becoming the highlight of his week.
And in those 6 weeks, Tony learns a lot about Peter.
The first, which really isn’t a surprise, is that Peter’s fun to have around. Like, really fun. He’s funny and quippy and, after a few weeks, slowly stops being quite so scared that Tony’s going to tear his head off if he says the wrong thing. And he’s so eager to see and learn and experience everything, like everything is happening to him for the first time, that Tony finds himself caught under the same spell, rediscovering joy in things he’s known or done for years through the simple act of just sharing them with Peter.
More, Peter, who always seems to have a smile on his face when he comes over for what’s now known as “lab day”, looks up at Tony with an addictive level of awe. Not naive and unadulterated, no – Peter’s well aware of some of the things Tony’s done and the person he used to be – but rich and bright and Tony doesn’t know how he deserved to have this kind, considerate kid look up to him like he holds the keys to the universe, but Tony is rapidly coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t want to let go of it.
(This isn’t to say it’s all going perfectly. Sometimes, Tony looks at Peter and wonders what the fuck he’s doing. How can he think he should be spending any time around a kid at all, especially one as good as Peter? Surely, at some point, Tony’s gonna do something to fuck Peter up or drive him away and the thought of either fills him with panic he can barely hide when Peter’s around. Still, there are times where Tony knows he says the wrong thing – words too cutting or harsh – and Tony knows it by the way Peter’s shoulders slump or his gaze dims. But each time, Peter recovers quickly, like nothing can keep him down for long, and Tony can never quite seem to wrap his head around just how Peter got to be so resilient.)
Which brings him to the next thing Tony learns about Peter: the kid’s ridiculously smart. Like, genius-level smart. In fact, out of all the people Tony knows, he figures only Bruce is smarter. Ok, yeah, sure, Peter doesn’t know PhD-level physics or engineering or other hard sciences at that level yet. But he keeps up with Tony easily when they’re in the lab, connecting the dots and making logical inferences at a speed that Tony’s never seen in anyone else.
And, even more, Tony still hasn’t exactly figured out that damn web formula (a bit of a sore spot, if Tony doesn’t mind admitting), so the kid’s already surpassed him in chemistry and he’s not even sixteen yet.
As someone invested in the future of this planet, all of this makes Tony desperately curious to see how Peter’s going to develop as he gets older. Peter is exactly the kind of young adult that makes him have faith in the future and, if Tony can have any hand in helping Peter realize his true potential, he’ll take being awkward as he figures out how to build a relationship with a teenager.
So, really, it shouldn’t be a surprise when Tony decides that it’s time to make Peter’s sham internship into a real, legit one.
Why shouldn’t I? is the thought that immediately follows. Peter is wicked smart, just the kind of talent that Stark Industries loves to foster and develop. Someone who can invent something like Peter did with his web fluid is exactly what Tony thinks of when he thinks of the future of his company.
People think Tony is impulsive, prone to making last minute, by-the-seat-of-his-pants decisions that generally only seem to work out because he’s rich, lucky, and smart. So some people could look at Tony’s decision to give Peter a full-fledged, legit internship as a whim on Tony’s part – after all, Tony hasn’t known the kid long, doesn’t even know if the kid actually wants a real internship.
But rarely are any of Tony’s decisions truly impulsive. It just seems that way because his brain moves so fast, so his ideas often end up at least close to fully formed by the time he’s conscious of them.
So by the time it hits Tony that he’s actually going to do this, he’s already mapped out a timeline for how to make this happen and the broad responsibilities and experiences he wants Peter to have, that would be a good fit for the kid.
But, regardless of what plans he has for Peter, there’s one thing Tony knows: none of this can happen without clearing it with Pepper first.
And not Pepper Potts, his fiancée. No, Tony taking on a personal intern is going to be both a potential landmine and goldmine at the same time – people are going to notice and they’re going to talk. So it’s not his fiancée he needs to talk to….
It’s Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries.
No matter how high she rises or how successful she gets, Pepper never forgets where she came from.
From her early days as a lowly admin assistant, fresh out of college and armed with a Fine Arts degree, rising to become the Personal Assistant to none other than Tony Stark himself, and eventually leap-frogging her way to becoming CEO of Stark Industries, appointed by the man himself… it’s been a wild ride, start to finish (not that she’s finished yet, not by a long shot).
And, still, despite all of this, Pepper always remembers that she was once an administrative assistant, which is why Pepper is very keenly aware that nothing happens in the world of business without an army of admin assistants working behind the scenes to pull it off. C-Suite executives and senior leaders work long hours, juggle projects and workstreams and strategic initiatives – they don’t have time to manage their calendars or make sure they get to their meetings on time or even just give themselves a break for lunch.
This is the job of an administrative assistant and Pepper thanks her lucky stars every day that she has one of the best there is. Melinda Eckles has been Pepper’s admin for the last 5 years and Pepper doesn’t think she could manage her life without the 33 year old woman with an OCD, anal-retentive streak that puts Pepper’s own meticulous organizational skills to shame.
Best of all, Melinda isn’t a woman who’s easily cowed, which means she’s great at fending off people who think they can just barge right into Pepper’s office whenever they want. The only person she lets through without an appointment is Tony, partly because he’s the Chairman of the Board, Head of R&D, and majority stakeholder in Stark Industries (for obvious reasons), partly because he’s also Pepper’s fiancé, and partly because he’s learned the lesson that somehow none of the other executives at SI have learned: if you want access to the CEO, charm the pants off of her admin.
And it’s a well known fact that Tony majored in Charm Offensive. Hell, Pepper wouldn’t be surprised if he has several Ph.Ds in the subject. When Tony wants, he can be ridiculously charming – it’s part of what makes him so charismatic and magnetic. With Melinda, this manifests in complementing her hair, the tidy state of her desk, bringing her the occasional compact bouquet of flowers that doesn’t encroach outside of the designated space Melinda has set aside for decorative items, expressing his earnest appreciation for always being there for Pepper….
Honestly, Pepper’s not surprised Melinda’s a little taken with Tony as a result. Not in a way Pepper needs to be concerned about – she knows where Tony’s loyalties lie and Melinda has been happily married to her wife since before Pepper hired her – but Melinda definitely has a soft spot in her heart for Tony and gives him more leeway as a result.
Not that Tony abuses the privilege often. He swings by unannounced once or twice a month at most, usually with surprise lunch plans or some, quote, “monumentally cool” thing he has to show her that he has no one else to show, especially if it’s something that could be of use for any of SI’s strategic goals.
Though, that second reason has been happening less and less over the past couple of months. Pepper thinks it’s because of Peter Parker, the Spider-Kid Tony’s been looking after recently. Pepper knows this has grown into weekly lab sessions where Tony gets to geek out with probably the most excitable 15 year old Pepper’s ever met (she’s only met Peter once, for less than 5 minutes, and even in that time, Pepper was left with the impression of bouncing-off-the-walls, nerdy energy despite the way he’d been nervous and star-struck in her presence).
Pepper’s happy that Tony has this. It’s been good for him, this mentorship he’s building with Peter. It gives him someone to show off to, which he loves, but Pepper’s starting to think it’s more than that. There’s been a change in Tony over the past couple of months – not a huge change, or anything, but noticeable to those who know him well. Yes, Tony’s still frenetic and manic and armed with an ego the size of Manhattan. But, beneath it, there’s a sense of groundedness, a stilling of the waters that is just starting to smooth out the worst of the rough edges.
It’s almost, dare Pepper say it, paternal. She won’t, of course – honestly, the last thing she wants is Tony running screaming for the hills – but she’s noticed it.
She doesn’t know how deeply rooted this is becoming in Tony, though. Which is why she’s surprised at what happens on a Tuesday in the beginning of December.
Part of the reason Pepper loves Melinda so much is because of just how damn organized Melinda is. One of the ways this shows up is the daily huddle Melinda puts on Pepper’s calendar for every morning at 8:00 sharp. It’s only a 15 minute meeting, but it’s the most valuable 15 minutes of Pepper’s day. During those 15 minutes, Melinda lays out what’s on Pepper’s plate for the day – the meetings she has, the deliverables she needs to keep track of, the people asking for time or approvals. It’s these 15 minutes that let Pepper make it through her day, armed with the concrete knowledge of what her day is going to entail (yes, there are surprises – there always are – but a surprising amount of time, the day goes as scheduled).
It’s this 15 minute meeting on the first Tuesday of December that starts to let Pepper know just how much Tony is changing. “... from 11 to 11:30, you have a call with the Head of Operations at the LA plant to discuss the production of the home battery line for launch, and you have a 30 minute meeting at 11:30 with Mr. Stark, after which –”
Pepper perks up at that, startling a bit. “Wait, Tony? You mean there’s a meeting on my calendar with Tony?”
Melinda smiles, nodding, brunette coif not even moving a hair out of place. “Yes, he requested the meeting. Used formal channels and everything.”
Pepper itches to grab her phone and shoot Tony a text right this second. That man! He didn’t even so much as hint he had a meeting scheduled on her calendar at any point while they were getting ready for their respective days. But, she knows Tony – if he wanted her to know about it earlier, he would have told her.
“Did he say what the meeting is for?” Pepper asks, brow furrowing just slightly.
“Just that there’s a proposal he needs to run by you for your approval.”
It’s standard operating procedure: anything that needs the CEO’s approval has to be presented in proposal format. Tony hates protocol and procedures – thinks they stifle innovation and creativity. Which means this is something special, something important. It has to be if he’s following the rules to get it.
Now Pepper isn’t just curious… she’s intrigued. “Alright, well I’ll let him keep me in suspense until 11:30, then. What else do I have today?”
The day moves on from there mostly as usual, except Pepper finds herself counting down the minutes until 11:30 with eager and impatient anticipation. She’s not normally like this, honest, but this is just so unusual – Tony putting a meeting on her calendar all proper like and everything – that it upends her normal unflappable composure.
Her 11:00 ends a few minutes early – probably because Pepper was clearly half focused on something else (she makes a mental note to make it up to Larry later) – and Melinda pokes her head 5 seconds after the call ends like she has some sort of 6th sense, mind power thing that lets her know when Pepper’s meetings are over. “Your 11:30 is here,” Melinda says with a cheeky smile, like she’s beyond amused that Tony Stark, notorious rule breaker himself, has followed the straight and narrow on this for once.
“And he’s early, too,” Pepper says with a wry, breathy laugh. “Ok, Melinda, send him in.”
Here’s the thing about Tony: with very few exceptions, he always looks good. Whether dressed in jeans and a sleeveless undershirt with oil stains smeared across the front or done up in the latest Tom Ford about to attend a gala (or in absolutely nothing at all, which Pepper will admit is one of her favorites), Tony always looks like he’s ready to step into a photoshoot. It’s one of his many annoyingly amazing charms and Pepper wishes she didn’t notice it quite as much as she has.
Today is no exception to the “Tony always looks good” rule, but it’s the way in which he looks good that adds one more layer of intrigue onto this whole thing. Tony walks into her office dressed for a proper business meeting – head to toe Armani, navy slacks and matching blazer, pale blue French cuffed dress shirt, tan leather dress shoes. The only concession he’s made is no tie, leaving the top two buttons of his shirt undone. All in all, it’s an appropriate outfit for the Chairman of the Board and one of the top leaders of Stark Industries to show up wearing to a meeting with the CEO.
Which this is. A real, official meeting. Tony even has his StarkPad tucked up against his forearm, fingers curled around the glass and metal surface to hold it tight to him, so he has stuff he’s going to show, going to present.
Oh, this is about to be interesting.
Pepper finds herself smiling as her fiancé, a superhero and one of the richest men in the world, walks through the door, the twist of her lips a unique combination of amusement, curiosity, and happiness all rolled into one. “Tony,” she says, wry amusement rising to the fore.
“Pepper, thanks for meeting with me,” Tony says as he sits down, almost like they’re not engaged to be married and sleep in the same bed every night.
“Thank Melinda, you mean. You know I have no control over my own calendar,” Pepper says with a quiet laugh
“Bless that amazing woman and her militant hold on your schedule,” Tony says, a smirk of his own. “I always feel like one wrong move, and I’ll find her outside your office door with a machete and jungle warfare face paint, going all Rambo on my ass.”
That earns a full laugh from Pepper. “Oh, if only she could do that for the rest of the office bargers.” She sighs and calms a bit. “But, seriously Tony, what’s this about? You never formally put time on my calendar for anything.”
This settles Tony down and a serious look falls over his face. “I know, but this was important and I wanted to do it right.” Tony pulls up his StarkPad, fingers of one hand flying across the glass surface. “Here, I’m sending you something to follow along with as we talk.” It only takes a couple of seconds for Pepper’s computer to ping with the notification of an incoming email.
Pepper tears her gaze away from Tony and focuses on her computer screen. There, in her inbox, is an email from Tony and when she opens it, she sees the file attached. “The ‘Minor League Initiative’?” she asks, nose scrunching in confusion. Apparently, not even a serious meeting can put a stop to Tony’s ability to give everything a quippy nickname.
“Yeah. Pepper, I want to bring Peter on as my official intern.”
Pepper’s finger hovers over her mouse button, poised to open the file. “Wait, seriously? Like, official-official? I thought it was just a cover for –” her gaze darts about like there could be people listening, even though the Tower is one of the most secure buildings on the planet “ – you know, the kid.”
Tony smirks, but it’s an expression full of warmth. “Yeah, it was. But, Pepper, this kid is… beyond smart. Like, he keeps up with me in the lab, no problem. He’s got so much potential, can do so many things, that it’d be a shame to waste it, y’know? So I want to bring him on as my intern, show him the ropes, set him up for the future, all that good stuff.”
There’s a fierceness in Tony’s voice that catches Pepper off guard with just how adamant it is and she finds herself hurrying to click on the file Tony sent her to see the full breadth of what he’s thinking. And it’s… a lot, Pepper realizes as she scrolls through the file. There’s project ideas for Peter, workstreams Tony has laid out as potential focuses, events and conferences he wants to bring Peter to, rotations through different teams to work with for exposure and to start networking, a development roadmap, milestones and proposed schedules to accommodate his normal school schedule….
This isn’t just an internship. No, this is something more, something big… something Pepper doesn’t want to name quite yet just in case she’s wrong, but seems a lot closer to things like succession planning and handing over the reins. Things that speak to how far in the future Tony is looking when it comes to Peter.
And Tony walks Pepper through every part of the proposal, the whys and hows and wherefores, explaining why this is going to be a benefit to Stark Industries (recruiting talent for the future while leveraging Peter’s genius to develop new ideas and new technologies). And Pepper, for her part, is just overwhelmed by how much sheer thought Tony’s put into this. Like he’s done the legwork to plan it out so that Peter will be the primary beneficiary of this internship. Really, it’s about as altruistic as a Fortune 5 company can be, the way Tony has this structured – the level of access to senior leadership, the visibility, the personal and public mentorship from one of the most famous men on the planet… anyone would kill to have this kind of opportunity. And Tony’s gone and built it all for a 15 year old boy who spends his free time protecting the streets of Queens in what is essentially an overpriced unitard (look, Pepper just calls them like she sees them).
Once Tony’s finished – for as much as Tony has it planned out, it only takes him 20 minutes to fully walk through it – Pepper takes a moment to just process it all. “Tony,” she says after a second. “This is –”
“A lot, I know,” Tony says, jumping in before Pepper can say it. “But it’s not like the kid isn’t good under pressure. I think he can do this, I really do. And, yeah, we’ll have to be flexible with his school schedule, run this by Legal to make sure we’re all kosher with child labor laws, but then we can make up time during the summer and school breaks. Besides, there are some really good conferences that happen in the summer that would be great for Peter, and –”
“No, Tony, it’s not just that,” Pepper says, cutting him off. “Even if Peter wants to do this – have you talked to him about it?” Pepper asks, taking a quick tangent.
“Not yet,” Tony says. “Wanted to make sure we were good here first.”
“Ok, well, even if he does want to do it, this is going to be a highly visible internship, a lot of exposure, a lot of eyes on it. Maybe not right away, but eventually, word’s going to get out. You sure he’s ready for it? For all those eyes, wondering who he is?”
The look Tony gives her is knowing and long-suffering, exasperated and worried by equal measure. “You don’t think I know that? It’s why I’m here, talking to you about it. I know what this is going to risk exposing Peter to, but I also know it could be good. Look, the kid’s brilliant and he’s a good kid, considerate and funny and eager to do good, to do the right thing. SI needs people like him, Pep. But I want you in on this with me. I want to make sure to do this right.” He gestures between the two of them, eyes wide and imploring. “And you and me, we can protect him, shield him from the worst of it, give him the skills he needs to survive the shark-infested waters.”
“But only if I say yes.” It’s not a question, Pepper’s words, but a statement.
“If you don’t think this is a good idea, I’ll keep on doing what I’ve been doing with the kid – the lab days, the whole superhero mentor thing – but one day I’m going to make sure that SI snags him, no matter what.”
Tony’s getting worked up now – his passion for this is evident and Pepper knows that, if Tony has his way, Peter will be working very closely with him in an official capacity at SI one day, sooner or later – so Pepper holds up a hand to soothe. “I’m not saying this is a bad idea – actually, I think it’s a really good idea. Peter’s a lovely kid and, honestly, we could use the good press for investing in the next generation. I just wanted to make sure that you’d really thought through the risks of this.”
“I have, Pep, and I still think we should do this. At the very least, it’ll set Peter up to go to a good college – I’m thinking MIT, y’know? Pull a few strings, talk to a few people, they love me there – but an internship from here will open doors for him anywhere.”
At this, Pepper can’t help but grin. “Careful, Tony, you’re sounding practically invested.”
Tony freezes a bit, but after a second he shrugs, sniffing a bit dismissively. “Yeah, well, you know, want to make sure this pays off for the kid no matter what.”
Pepper wants to push – Tony is so fun to rile up, after all – but she doesn’t want to scare him into an admission he might not be ready for. So, she lets it go. “Well, consider me convinced, then. You can have your intern, Tony Stark. Just make sure we follow whatever guidelines Legal sets up – we don’t need to be known as the company that exploits child labor.”
Tony grins, clearly beyond pleased, and draws an X over his chest. “Cross my heart, Pep. And thank you. You’re not going to regret this.”
“Get out of my office, Tony,” Pepper says with a laugh, pointing a lazy finger in the direction of her office door.
“What, no time for lunch? I was thinking we could head down to that French Nouveau place you’ve been dying to try. My treat,” Tony says with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows.
“No can do, I have a 12:30 that I’ve rescheduled twice already. Melinda’s bringing me lunch in.”
“Ah, well,” Tony says, clicking his tongue. “It was worth the try.” He gets up, a spring in his step, and bounds over to her side of the desk so he can press a quick kiss to her mouth. “See you in the penthouse later this evening, Ms. Potts?”
Pepper grins. “As always, Mr. Stark.”
Tony mirrors her grin, promise in his eyes, and gives her a two finger salute before he goes to slip out through the door, leaving Pepper to her eventual lunch break.
But, before he can, Pepper calls out to him. “Oh, and Tony?”
Tony pauses, halfway out the door, eyebrow arched in question, smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, honey bunches?”
Oh, great, he’s back to being cute and irreverent. But Pepper just grins, letting it slide. Especially given what she’s about to say. “Before you talk to Peter….” Her grin grows even wider. “Make sure you clear it with his aunt, first.”
And if Tony goes a little pale at Pepper’s suggestion, well… Pepper has the good graces to not laugh at him.
At least, not on the outside.
When she gets a call from Tony telling her there’s something he needs to talk to her about, May can’t help the way her mind goes to the worst possible place. Oh god, something’s happened to Peter.
It’s the middle of the day, on May’s day off, when Tony calls. Peter is supposed to be at school, but she knows as well as anyone that if a problem comes up that only Spider-Man can fix, well… Peter’s not going to let a little thing like school keep him from doing what he thinks of as his duty (no matter how much May tries to convince him otherwise that school always comes first).
The silence over the phone must have been telling, because Tony rushes to explain. “Peter’s fine, at school as far as I know. Suit logs say he hasn’t been in it since he came back from patrol last night. And, um, anyway, it’s not Spider-Man related, what I need to talk to you about.”
The knot of unease coiled in May’s stomach loosens a bit, but not entirely. “Ok, um, sure,” May says. Her conversations with Tony are always a little stilted, a little awkward. It’s like she used up all her confidence giving Tony a piece of her mind during that first call after she found out her nephew was running around in glorified spandex, stopping crime and putting himself in danger. And, now, Tony’s treating her like she’s a bomb about to go off, the two of them unsure of what the other’s move is going to be.
May fucking hates it.
There’s a silence as May gives Tony the space to start talking about whatever he needs to say, one that lasts a little bit too long. “Oh, this isn’t something to be discussed over the phone,” Tony hurries to say. “I know it’s your day off, so I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” May wants to think it’s creepy that Tony seems to know her schedule – and she does think it’s creepy – but she’s also not at all surprised at the same time that it pretty much cancels it out. “But, would you mind if I swung by sometime today? I can make anytime work, so it’s whatever works for you.”
It hits May, in this moment, that Tony’s being… considerate. Like, a normal person would be. It’s not what she expects from the billionaire who’s been enabling Peter’s descent into vigilantism without her permission (even if she knows Peter would still be doing it regardless of if anyone was helping him, a thought that keeps May up way too late most nights). “Um, any time works for me, too. I mean….” She trails off, chuckling. Talking about her exciting day of errands with one of the world’s richest men was not on the list of what she expected to be doing today. But, doing it, she is. “I was just going to do laundry, follow it up with a little grocery shopping. But I don’t have plans, if that’s what you’re trying to accommodate.”
“Oh, ok, um, how does in a half an hour sound? I can grab some lunch for the both of us, if you haven’t eaten yet. O-or we could go somewhere! My treat, whatever you want, sky’s the limit.”
It’s just after 11:15, so a half an hour from now would be right around lunch time. “Tony, that’s generous of you, but you don’t have to –”
“I’ll pick us up something, no big. Don’t even worry about it. See you in 30.” Tony hangs up before May can say anything else, leaving her to stare at her cell phone with curious concern.
“Well, alright, then,” she says with a sigh before she looks at her apartment… her messy apartment. Between May’s long hours at the hospital and Peter’s innate teenage ability to masquerade as a human whirlwind, it kind of looks like a bomb went off: dirty dishes stacked on the counter, piles of mail on the table, blankets and sweaters and jackets draped across every soft surface….
There’s not enough time to clean it all up, so May has to triage as she races around the apartment, doing what she can in what limited time she has.
She’s just finishing up washing her hands after neatly stacking the dirty dishes in the sink when there’s a knock at the front door. May hurries to dry off her hands and she finds herself smoothing down her hair and clothes as best she can as she makes her way over to the door. She may know Tony now – well, kind of, at any rate – but it doesn’t mean she wants to look like more of a slob than her casual jeans and worn flannel already make her look.
After one last deep breath, May opens the door to reveal none other than the man himself standing on the other side, looking infuriatingly put together in dark wash blue jeans, a black blazer, and a Rolling Stones t-shirt that looks lovingly worn. His usual sunglasses are perched on his grinning face and he’s holding up a take-out bag with the logo of an Indian fusion restaurant that May’s been to with Peter once or twice.
When her eyes linger on the bag, Tony’s grin grows even wider. “Peter mentioned that the two of you like this place. And, well, apparently they’re known for their tandoori sandwiches and I never pass up a good tandoori.”
This earns Tony a laugh that May can’t hold back. “Hi Tony, come in Tony.”
“May, looking as radiant as always,” he says, laying the charm on thick.
“Does your fiancée know your tendency to flirt with everything that moves?” May asks with a roll of her eyes as she steps aside to let Tony in.
“I can’t seem to do anything without Pepper knowing about it, so yes. If I didn’t know for certain, I’d say she was spying on me.” Tony pauses on his way over to the sofa, a frown starting to pull down his grin. “Maybe I should have her tested for psychic powers….” He shrugs and the moment passes. “Eh, not important.”
It’s only as May comes over after closing the door behind them does she notice the other thing Tony was holding in his hand along with the take-out bag: a white, 8½ by 11 envelope, stuffed with a sheaf of papers. This must be what Tony wants to talk to her about, May realizes. But, first thing’s first: she’s gotta act like a proper host. “Did you want something to drink to go with lunch? I think we have some diet soda, but there’s also water or tea, if you want.”
“Water’s fine, thanks.”
With a nod, May heads to the kitchen to grab them a couple of glasses of water, as well as plates and napkins for good measure. By the time May gets back to the sofa where Tony’s sitting, he’s got the sandwiches unpacked, a wax paper bag of naan crisps situated between them. The white envelope is safely set aside, but within easy reach.
Tony gives her a small smile as she sits down and places the water, plate, and napkin in front of him without a word. “So, did you wanna eat first or get business out of the way first?”
The choice is nice and May’s grateful Tony’s offered it. “The sandwiches aren’t getting any warmer, so let’s eat first, if that’s ok.”
Tony holds up his hands in a disarming motion. “Hey, your call.”
They eat in silence for a few moments, but it must get to be too much for Tony because not 3 bites into his sandwich, he speaks up. “So, how’s work?” he asks around half a mouthful of sandwich.
May gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, a flat stare with an arched eyebrow and a wry grin, and wipes off her mouth before setting down her sandwich. “You don’t have to make small talk with me, Tony.”
“It’s just – I don’t do well with awkward silence and I kinda think we have one going on, right now,” Tony says, gesturing vaguely to the air around them.
“Alright, well, then, why don’t you tell me how Peter’s liking the lab when he visits? All I can get out of him are squeeing noises and sighs of ‘so cool’, so not particularly helpful.”
At this, Tony grins – no, not grins. Smiles. Full on, eye-crinkling smiles. “It’s great. At least, it seems great. He’s a smart kid, May. Just… brilliant.”
May smiles herself, fondly, as she thinks of the young man she’s raising. “It’s crazy to watch, isn’t it?”
“And, god, he’s just non-stop. I don’t know how you have the energy to keep up with him.”
“Oh, I gave up that years ago, Stark,” May says, grinning. “Having a teenager means accepting that you’re one foot into the grave and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Tony sniffs indignantly as if he’s been personally affronted. “Speak for yourself – I’m barely middle aged.”
At this, May lets out a snort. “Right, if 50 is the new 35.”
“Well, maybe it is,” Tony says and, if he were a different person, May thinks he’d have his arms crossed over his chest right now in defiance. But, after a second, the mood fades, leaving a calmer, slightly more even keeled Tony in its place. “But, actually, that’s a good segue to what I wanted to talk to you about.” Tony wipes his hands on a napkin and reaches out for the envelope he’s set off to the side. He reaches in and pulls out the packet of papers inside, handing them over to her a moment later.
May hurries to wipe off her own hands with her napkin before taking the packet from him. “What is this?” she asks, adjusting her glasses on her face before she turns the papers right side up to look at them.
“I want to formally offer Peter an internship at Stark Industries.”
May looks up, slack jawed, before she can so much as glance past the first half of the first page. “Wait, you mean like a real internship?”
“Exactly like a real internship,” Tony says, gesturing to the packet of papers with the tip of his chin. “The details are all laid out in that packet. What his responsibilities would be, what the hours are – flexible to accommodate his school, naturally – what events or conferences I’ve identified that would be good for him to attend, what he would get to do… it’s all in there.”
May immediately feels overwhelmed and the thought of trying to read through the thick packet in her hands. “Have you talked to Peter about this?”
Tony shakes his head. “No, I wanted to talk to you first, and not just because, apparently, you need to sign off on it since Peter’s not quite 16.” Tony sighs and his shoulders slump just a little bit. “I’m aware that I really fucked up when I recruited Peter as Spider-Man and brought him to Germany. Trust me, even if you hadn’t torn me a new one, Pepper blistered my balls over that particular decision. I knew it wasn’t a good idea at the time, but, well….” A shadow passes over Tony’s face and, though May doesn’t pry, she’s heard a little from Peter about the Avengers’ break up and how it’s affected Tony. Clearly, more time is needed for these wounds. “Ah, anyway, not the point. The point is that I don’t want to cut you out again. Going for transparency this time. Which is a new look for me, but I think it’s going pretty well so far.”
May gives him a weak smile and takes in a deep breath, releasing it heavily. “Well, if I’m going to say yes, I need to know what’s in all of it. And not the business-y version. The one for normal people.”
Tony’s lips quirk in a small smile. “Alright, May Parker, here’s the low down: Peter would be my official, personal intern. 6 hours a week, paid, when school’s in session – I was thinking Fridays since that’s when he comes over anyway and maybe Wednesday or Tuesday depending on his extracurriculars. He could bump up the hours during breaks and summer if he wanted. He’d spend most of his time working with me – R&D meetings, research, all that stuff – but he’d also get opportunities to shadow with other leaders at SI if he wanted. Our COO is amazing and I know Pepper would love to let Peter shadow her if he wanted. And then there are the conferences. SI goes to all the big ones and I’d arrange it with you so he could go – hell, you could even come with, if you wanted, make a vacation of it. I really just want Peter to get as much exposure as possible, start networking and learning. It’ll help when it comes time for college and after when he’s looking for a job, though I’m hoping he’ll decide to stay at SI. Fair warning, I’m going to pull out all the stops to get him to stay.” Tony pauses, taking in a deep breath, still grinning. “So, is that enough of a low down for you?”
If anything, May’s even more overwhelmed. What Tony wants for Peter… it’s the kind of opportunity she never could have dreamed of for him, but always hoped he would get. But still, it’s a lot. Not timewise – teenagers have jobs that have them working 6 hours a week all the time – but just… suddenly, May feels like the sky’s the limit. And she has to ask… “Why? Why all this for Peter?”
“Because he’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and he’s only 15. He’s a good kid with a lot of potential and I wouldn’t be a good futurist if I didn’t do what I could to help him realize it.”
May’s not exactly sure she knows what a “futurist” is, but if it helps open non-superhero vigilante doors for Peter’s future, she won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “Well, you‘ve convinced me, Stark. If Peter wants to do this, I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign.”
Tony smiles, clearly relieved as the stress fades from the lines of his face. “You won’t regret this, May. I promise.”
“Well, Peter still has to say yes, you know.”
“Psh, please,” Tony says as May reaches for her sandwich once more. “What self-respecting 15 year old nerd would turn down the opportunity to officially work with Iron Man?”
Fridays are awesome. Always have been, always will be. This is a truth Peter has known for years. No matter how much he loves school – and he’s a giant nerd, so he loves school – the sweet release of the weekend that Fridays bring is one of the best feelings in the universe.
For Peter, Fridays mean sleepovers at Ned’s, elbows deep in Lego sets; Fridays mean staying up way too late because you know you can sleep in the following morning; Fridays mean freedom and luxury and all good things.
Peter thinks he knows all about how awesome Fridays can be. He’s 15, almost 16, after all – not a lot out there left for him to discover with adulthood only a couple of years away.
But then Peter meets Tony Stark and discovers just how much more awesome Fridays can actually be.
Now, Fridays don’t just mean the start of the weekend – they also mean time spent in one of the most state-of-the-art labs in the world, getting to tinker around with science and technology beyond what Peter ever imagined getting his hands on, all while hanging out with his childhood hero who happened to be a literal superhero.
God, when did his life get so freakin’ cool?
This particular Friday afternoon finds Peter packing up his backpack alone. Normally Ned hangs out nearby, considering that their lockers aren’t too far apart. But his mom showed up early and Ned didn’t want to keep her waiting, so he rushed through his own end-of-day routine before giving Peter an equally rushed version of their secret handshake.
“Don’t burn down Iron Man’s lab,” Ned had said as he turned away, teasing grin on his face.
“Ned, don’t!” Peter had said, words hissed through his teeth as his cheeks reddened. After what happened with DC and the ferry and Peter telling everyone that he’d lost the Stark internship, Peter was less than willing to go around talking about how he gets to spend every Friday afternoon with one of the most famous people in the world. A high schooler having an internship at Stark Industries is already fantastical enough – no one would ever believe that Peter spends 4 to 5 hours a week at least with Tony Stark, just hanging out in his lab, building superhero suits and generally having a good time.
“I keep telling you, Instagram that shit. You’d instantly be the most popular kid, like, ever.” The grin on Ned’s face had reached shit-eating proportions, which did little to hide the awe in his expression. Like Peter, Ned’s general opinion on Peter’s superhero lifestyle, and all that accompanied it was: so freakin’ cool.
“Go home, Ned,” Peter had called out, smiling despite himself.
Ned had started walking backwards away from Peter so he was able to maintain eye contact. “Don’t forget to tell me everything.”
At that, Peter had shaken his head. “Don’t I always?”
Ned had given him one final gesture, an enthusiastic thumbs up, before he turned around and walked away, disappearing into the mass of students all eagerly trying to get out of school for the weekend.
So, now Peter’s by himself, doing one last double check to make sure he has all the textbooks he needs to do his homework. And when Peter closes his locker and shoulders his backpack (one of the upsides of getting super strength from a radioactive spider bite, his backpack feels like it weighs nothing despite how many books he has to pile into it), there’s an extra skip in his step as he makes his way out to the front of the school. The weekend is here and Peter gets to spend the rest of the day in a multi-million dollar lab.
Seriously, so awesome.
Happy’s already out front waiting for Peter, parked in a nondescript but what Peter is sure is still an expensive black town car. The man himself is sitting behind the wheel, dark sunglasses on his face, looking every inch like Tony Stark’s driver.
For as much as Peter has been trying to keep quiet the fact that he gets to hang out with Mr. Stark on the regular, he’s also kinda surprised that no one at school has figured it out by now. Happy Hogan is nearly as well known as Mr. Stark, given how often he’s seen at the other man’s side. Maybe everyone’s just too excited to be going home for the day to notice.
Must be it, Peter thinks as he bounds down the stairs towards the town car.
Peter opens the rear passenger side door and all but launches himself into the back of the car. “Hi Mr. Happy!”
Happy’s strangled groan is easily audible even without the benefit of super-hearing. “Kid, how many times we gotta go over this? It’s either ‘Happy’ or ‘Mr. Hogan’. Not ‘Mr. Happy’.”
“Sorry, Mr. Happy. Won’t do it again.”
Happy just lets out another grumble (which is 100% the reason Peter calls him that in the first place; one day he’ll take pity on Happy and stop, but today is not that day) before he starts the engine. “Seatbelts, please,” Happy says like he’s talking to a recalcitrant child.
Peter manages to barely stop himself from rolling his eyes, but he does as Happy asks and once, Peter assumes, Happy can hear the click of Peter’s seatbelt, the older man pulls away from the curb.
“So, how was school, kid?” Happy asks once he’s pulled into traffic.
Peter shifts his backpack from his lap down to the floor by his feet and gives a lazy, one shouldered shrug. “It was ok. Looking forward to winter break.”
“You got finals before or after that?”
Peter’s not used to this kind of concerned questioning from Happy, which started a few weeks ago and is turning into something of a routine. It’s like Happy’s slowly turning into some kind of distant, disgruntled uncle. It’s hilarious in the best way possible. “After, thankfully. I’m so not ready right now.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do great,” Happy says, giving Peter an awkward smile through the rearview mirror. “And, uh, how’s Spider-Manning going for ya?”
Peter briefly thinks back to last night’s patrol, where he stopped two robberies, helped an old man get home after he got turned around on the dark streets of Queens, and rescued a Shih Tzu who somehow got stuck in a cold gutter. But it’s nothing out of the ordinary and Peter doesn’t think Happy wants to hear those kinds of mundane details. “Sounds like someone misses the voicemails I used to send him,” Peter says with a grin.
“I will deny that until my last breath and if you ever go spreading that around, things won’t end well for you.” The threat is an empty one and it just makes Peter chuckle a little. Happy might talk a big game, but Peter knows he’s a big softie on the inside.
Things quiet down after that and, before Peter settles in to amuse himself on his phone, he takes one last look at Happy, just to make sure it’s still Happy behind the wheel. It’s dumb, and Peter will never voice the thought out loud, but he’s almost positive that, one day, it’ll be Mr. Stark behind the wheel, probably driving some outrageously expensive sports car, instead of Happy.
Peter’s not exactly sure what’s influencing that thought, but he thinks it’s probably something to do with the shift in his relationship with Mr. Stark. There’s an easy familiarity brewing between them, something that makes Peter’s heart feel warm and honored. It’s the snacks Mr. Stark keeps in his lab that he keeps there because they’re Peter’s favorite; it’s the solid weight of Mr. Stark’s hand clapping down on Peter’s shoulder when he does something right or says something witty or insightful; it’s the trust Mr. Stark shows him as they work on the Iron Man suit, soliciting Peter’s input as they work on one of the most recognizable superhero suits ever.
Mr. Stark is a mentor, yes, but something more profound is building, something people braver than Peter would label as “familial” or “parental”. But Peter isn’t brave enough to presume – life hasn’t afforded him that particular luxury before, so he’s not about to start now – so he’s resigned to just wait and see what the future has in store for him.
The ride over to the Tower takes just under 40 minutes, mostly because of the early Friday afternoon traffic, and Peter finds himself breathing a sigh of relief as Happy pulls into the private garage. Peter’s not much of a car guy, but not even he can resist ogling the rows of expensive cars: sports cars and supercars and vintage cars as far as the eye can see – if it’s valuable and/or interesting, Mr. Stark has it. Peter can’t fathom having the kind of money it requires to have this kind of car collection, but it’s definitely more money than Peter will ever make in his lifetime.
Happy pulls up in front of the small elevator bay tucked away in the back of the garage, angling the car so there’s minimal distance from Peter’s car door to the elevator. “Here you go kid. Have fun with Tony; try not to let him boss you around too much.”
“Will do, Mr. Happy,” Peter says as he scrambled out of the backseat of the car. “Thanks for the ride!” Peter closes the car door, the sound echoing deeply in the cavernous garage, and bounds for the elevator before Happy can do much as scowl at Peter, even though Peter knows he’s doing it anyway (hey, by this point, Peter knows Happy loves to complain, so he’s actually totally doing him a favor).
Peter’s biometrics are coded into FRIDAY’s system, so the elevator door opens as soon as Peter approaches. “Hello, Peter. Did you have a good day at school?”
Peter wonders if Mr. Stark programmed FRIDAY to be polite like that for everyone or if it’s only for a few select people, him included. Regardless, it makes Peter smile a little, amused at the AI’s politeness. “It was good, FRIDAY. Thanks for asking.”
“You are welcome, Peter,” FRIDAY says as the doors close and the elevator rockets up towards the penthouse where Mr. Stark’s private lab is. “The boss is in his lab. I have informed him of your arrival.”
Peter pushes out his lower jaw and works it back and forth to help pop his ears when they get to around the 80th floor or so. “Thanks, FRI.”
“Of course, Peter.”
The elevator stops and the door seamlessly glides open. Hands clasped around the one strap of his backpack that’s actually hanging off a shoulder, Peter steps out onto the penthouse’s main floor, trying to feel like he belongs. Maybe one day, he won’t have to try.
Peter loves the penthouse. It’s all clean, smooth lines and neutral colors – soft white, pale grey, tan – and matte metal. It’s like it was designed to be as soothing to the senses as possible and, paired with the sound proof windows, it’s a literal haven from the never ending sensory overload of the outside world, a balm for the hyperactive senses Peter can’t turn off.
Peter walks down the small hallway leading from the elevator, emerging out into the great room just in time for Mr. Stark to appear on the opposite side of the room, where another hallway leads to the kitchen, dining room, and family room. Further down that way is where Mr. Stark’s ginormous lab is, along with a small office (well, small compared to the lab – the one glimpse Peter’s gotten of that room revealed that Mr. Stark’s office is half the size of Peter’s whole apartment, at least) .
Peter’s pretty familiar with the first floor of the penthouse, but the second floor, accessed by a staircase leading up from the great room, is a total mystery to him. He knows there has to be at least a few bedrooms up there, maybe a more intimate living room, but he doesn’t know for sure. After all, he hasn’t had any reason to go up there. The only other places he’s been in the Tower are the Med Bay for a couple of Spider-Man related minor injuries and one of the even larger labs downstairs to do some larger scale experiments. Both are on the floors the Avengers used to call home base before everything went sideways (which is the polite way to put it, but these are Peter’s literal childhood heroes he’s talking about here, so polite it is).
“Ah, Spiderling! ‘Bout time you showed up.” Mr. Stark is all easy smiles and unassuming swagger, dressed in a MIT t-shirt and jeans. His arms are open in greeting for a few seconds before they drop down to his sides and he waves Peter towards him with excited impatience. “C’mon, drop your jacket and backpack off – usual spot – and let's get crackin’. I had some ideas for how to make the heating unit in your suit more efficient, make the battery last longer. After all, baby spiders can’t thermoregulate, y’know.”
“Aw, cool! That sounds great, Mr. Stark.” Peter magnanimously ignores the “baby spider” remark as he places his backpack on an entry table before he shucks off his jacket (not thick enough to ward off the temperatures that get colder by the day and that was before the spider bite).
“Yeah, thought you’d appreciate that, kid,” Mr. Stark says with a knowing smirk. And then Peter practically trips over his own two feet to meet Mr. Stark on the other side of the room and the smirk turns into a pained cringe. “And I know you have super healing and all, but if you could do me a solid and please avoid eating it on the hard tiled floor and breaking your nose, I’d really appreciate it. Last thing I need is your hot aunt kicking down my front door and castrating me for letting her precious nephew get hurt on my watch.”
“Oh my god, Mr. Stark. Don’t be such a drama queen,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes.
“Ah, and the backtalk starts early. I see how it goes.” Mr. Stark’s tone is prim and offended, but his arm slides easily across Peter’s shoulders to start guiding him back towards the lab. The casual touch makes Peter feel all warm inside, making him wonder just how he got the kind of lucky to be able to spend time with Mr. Stark like this, that Mr. Stark has chosen him to commit several hours a week to when there are so many other, better, more important people out there, all clamoring for Mr. Stark’s attention.
“I can go all ‘ok boomer’ on you, if you’d like. Y’know, kick it up a notch.” Peter’s trying not to smile, but it’s a losing battle as a face-splitting grin pulls up on his mouth.
Mr. Stark visibly shudders. “Peter, please, I’m Gen X, don’t lump me in with those fuddy duddies.”
“Hmm, just what I’d expect a Boomer to say as a last ditch self defense move.”
“Y’know what, kid…” Mr. Stark says as he hooks his arm around Peter’s neck and pulls him in to dig his knuckles into Peter’s scalp to give him a noogie.
Peter barks out a laugh and ducks out of the hold. “Real mature, Mr. Stark. Real mature.”
“Well, I have been called a man child, so at least it’s on brand for me.” They walk past the kitchen. “Your usual snacks are in the lab, but you want anything else? Chez Iron Man is always open for business,” Mr. Stark says with a wave of his hand towards the open, sleek kitchen.
Peter thinks of the Hot Cheetos, dried mangoes, and M&Ms waiting for him in the lab and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good for now. Thanks, though.”
Mr. Stark shrugs, one shoulder lifting lazily. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, kitchen’s right there.” He continues to lead Peter towards the lab. “So, how was school? You learn new shit and all that jazz?”
“Pretty much sums it up,” Peter says with a laugh. “Glad it’s the weekend, though.”
“Got any plans this weekend?” Mr. Stark looks at him, eyebrows wagging comically. “A hot date, maybe?”
A blush blazes fiercely on Peter’s cheeks and, before he can stop it, a mental picture of MJ appears in his mind’s eye. His heart skips it’s usual beat at the thought of her and Peter can tell from how Mr. Stark is looking at him that his emotions are broadcasting across his face for all to see. “Uh, no, no hot date.” The words almost stick in his throat, it’s so tight.
“Uh huh.” Mr. Stark gives him a long, knowing look, but thankfully doesn’t push it as they approach the closed door to the lab.
Mr. Stark has the door to the lab locked except for him and Ms. Potts (that Peter knows of, at least – he just knows the door won’t unlock for him unless Mr. Stark’s already in there), but FRIDAY unlocks it without being prompted to, latch undoing with a soft ‘snick’.
Peter follows Mr. Stark into the uber impressive lab, but he takes a hard left turn to the small workbench Mr. Stark set up for him in the corner (if Peter felt less honored, he’d like the table to be a bit bigger, but he has his own space in Iron Man’s lab, so he’s not about to complain). There, he checks on his web fluid levels, doing some quick mental math to see if he should prep another batch while he’s here. The levels look good, so Peter figures he can wait another week. If there’s an emergency, he can always whip up some quickly in Chem Lab – it won’t be the first time, after all.
“Hey Pete, before we get started, pull up a sec, I got something I wanna talk to you about.”
Peter turns to where Mr. Stark is standing at the central work table – a large, holographic table – and there’s a serious look on his face that sets off a warning ping in the back of his mind. No good ever comes from an adult saying there’s something they want to talk about. “Um, ok.” If he sounds scared, it’s definitely because he’s scared.
“It’s not bad, kid, I promise,” Mr. Stark says while waving Peter over. “In fact, I’m hoping you’ll think it’s good.”
This has Peter curious now, instead of scared, and his feet unglue themselves from the floor enough so he can go to where Mr. Stark is waiting for him. “So, what’s up?” he asks, all but murmuring.
Up close, there’s a tightness on Mr. Stark’s face that, later, Peter will figure out is nervousness. But, at the moment, it just makes Mr. Stark’s face look impenetrable. “You’ve been having fun here, right? Like you like coming over and spending time in the lab?”
Horror washes over Peter. Oh god, has he not thanked Mr. Stark for this and told him how much he appreciates getting to do this? “Mr. Stark, this is the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And maybe I haven’t said it enough, but thank you, and I promise to be better at saying–”
“No, Peter, that’s not–” Mr Stark cuts Peter off, only to stop abruptly mid-sentence, like he doesn’t know exactly what to say for a moment. “You’ve thanked me enough, really. You literally thank me for everything, no matter how small – honestly, I could do with being thanked a little less, but we’re getting off track.” He takes a deep breath and looks Peter square in the face. “I’ll just come right out and say it. Peter, I want to offer you a real, official internship.”
Peter’s mouth drops open and he’s sure he resembles a guppy or something else equally embarrassing. “A real internship? Like, here at SI?”
Mr. Stark’s face turns teasingly stern as he gives him a wry look. “No, Peter, at Oscorp.” He scoffs but then he’s all smiles. “Yes, here at SI!”
“What would, um, what would I do? As an intern?” Peter’s predominant emotion is still shock, but as his mind races to process the offer, he’s starting to get curious… and excited.
“Well, first off, you wouldn’t be just an intern – you’d be my intern. And not just the ‘gets coffee, files paperwork’ kind of intern. You’d have a project assigned to you that you’d report directly to me as the head of R&D; I’d introduce you to and have you shadow my department heads; and you’d get to come with me to pitch meetings, conferences, and other types of events. If you intern with me, like officially intern with me, there’s no door that’ll be closed to you. Any college of your choice – hell, any employer of your choice – will want to have you.”
Peter’s head is starting to spin. He might not understand everything Mr. Stark is saying exactly, but he’d have to be an idiot not to see the massive opportunity being given to him. “Why?” The question comes out as a croak, which is as strong as he can make his voice sound.
Mr. Stark’s head tilts to one side just so. “Why, what?”
“Why me?” Peter gestures at himself. “Mr. Stark, I’m nobody, really. I mean, yeah, I’m Spider-Man, but no one knows that except you, Aunt May, and Ned.”
“Hey, don’t forget about Pepper and Happy.”
Peter blushes a little. “Yeah, ok, them too. But without that, I’m just Peter Parker, a poor kid from Queens who only goes to school because of a scholarship.”
Mr. Stark comes around the table to stand in front of Peter and reaches out to lay a steady hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Pete, I wanna get one thing straight. Where you come from? None of that matters to me. You’re one of the brightest people I know. Not kids, people. I’ve seen how smart you are. Hell, I’m still trying to understand that damn web formula of yours and you invented it in a high school chem lab at 14 years old. That’s beyond impressive, no matter who you are. You have the ability to go far, kid, and I wanna help you do that. Plus, what kind of mentor would I be if I didn’t show you that you can have a future as Peter Parker, not just Spider-Man?” Mr. Stark pauses, a deprecating, half-grin pulling at half of his mouth. “Also, I’m selfish – entitled billionaire, y’know – and the thought of you working anywhere but SI gives me hives.” The grin fades into a small, warm smile, the kind that seem to be growing more and more common as the weeks go by. “So, whaddya say, kid, wanna be my intern?”
The warm weight of Mr. Stark’s hand on Peter’s shoulder helps keep Peter grounded as he processes, well… everything. An internship, a real, honest-to-god internship. Holy shit, he thinks, words echoing around in his mind like sound off a canyon’s wall.
An internship with Tony Stark can mean college wherever he wants – and scholarships, too! And maybe he can even get Mr. Stark to write him a letter of recommendation if he does a good enough job at being an intern. Plus, he’ll get to work on a whole bunch of cool shit and even go on trips, from the sounds of it. Outside of going to Germany, Peter’s never really been anywhere outside of New York unless it’s for school. Hell, he’s barely even gone outside of the city itself except for a couple of trips down to Atlantic City with Ben and May when he was a kid and the occasional Academic Decathlon competition. The thought of maybe getting to do any kind of traveling is just about as exciting as any of the other possibilities laid out in front of him.
All of this together means Peter is going to say ‘yes’. Like, oh my god yes. When Iron Man offers you a job, you don’t turn it down, is all Peter’s saying here. But still, there’s one question Peter has for Mr. Stark…. “So, this internship, you’ll pay me, right?” From the grin Peter can’t keep off his face, Mr. Stark has to know that Peter’s joking (well, mostly joking – he’d really love to be able to buy things like Lego sets or just food while he’s out on patrol without worrying about how much he has left in his wallet).
And, from the way Mr. Stark rolls his eyes before moving his hand from Peter’s shoulder to ruffle his hair instead, he sees that Peter is joking. “Yes, of course I’ll pay you, you miscreant. Though, when you see how much paperwork we’re going to have to fill out to get you officially hired, you might not think it’s worth it….”
Peter cringes a bit. Yeah, he’s eyed the forms in the front office for kids to fill out to get internships approved for credit and to be allowed to miss school in case of anything that comes up. The thick packet of paper has always intimidated Peter, but he guesses he’s going to have to suck it up. Though it’ll definitely be worth it if it means he gets to officially intern here with Mr. Stark. “Well, at the end of the day, it’s just a bunch of forms, right?”
Mr. Stark gives Peter a sad, but knowing look. One that all but screams oh, you sweet, summer child. “Yeah, get back to me in about 10 years and then we’ll see if you still feel that way about paperwork.” Mr. Stark puts an arm around Peter’s shoulder and starts leading guiding him over to where the controls are for the holographic table. “I take it this means that you’re saying ‘yes’ to the internship, right? Just gotta have verbal confirmation.”
A grateful smile makes an appearance as Peter looks over at Mr. Stark. “Oh, I’m definitely saying yes. Thank you, Mr. Stark. Really, I won’t let you down, I promise.”
Something passes over Mr. Stark’s face, something profound and deep, but undecipherable even as it makes Peter feel warm inside. “Kid, you could never let me down.” The words are spoken with a sincerity so sharp, it almost hurts, making Peter wonder once again what went right in his life that led him here to this moment, being given this opportunity.
The serious moment passes a heartbeat later and Mr. Stark’s face lights up in what Peter’s coming to call Mr. Stark’s “let’s do science” face. “Now, let’s take a look at your suit schematics.” Mr. Stark gestures towards the holographic controls. “You wanna do the honors, Pete?”
Mr Stark steps aside just enough for Peter to take the helm, so to speak. He raises his hand to utilize the motion controls and calls out to FRIDAY. “FRIDAY, pull up the blueprints for the Spider-Man suit, Mark 3.”
“Of course, Peter,” FRIDAY says, the holographic image of the most recent Spider-Man suit appearing before FRIDAY’s even finished speaking.
“Now, isolate the conductive wiring and the central heating unit,” Mr. Stark says.
“I got it, I got it,” Peter says as he starts moving his hand, watching bits of the hologram fall away in response to his motions, like a sculptor chipping away at pieces of marble to reveal the statue beneath the surface
“Yeah, kid, I guess you do.” There’s more than a little bit of pride in Mr. Stark’s voice with those words and Peter can’t help the way he smiles.
God, his life is so cool.