The Spectacular Peter Stark

Peter knew he had very little time left, but he had this worked down to the last second, and he wasn’t going to be beat today.
“Okay, eggs scrambled, ham--perfection. Toast--butter is congealing, good. Sausage...ten seconds, nine seconds….”
The elevator door opened.
Tony walked out, fully dressed and wearing shades as if the summer sun could somehow chase him indoors. “Just coming down to say morning before I head out, slugger.”
“Wha--” Peter slid the sausage onto the plate. “What about your breakfast?”
Tony shook his head. “Handled that, protein bar--more filling than you think--”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. At least eat your toast.” He held up the plate.
“I'm telling ya Peter, I'm stuffed, honest.”
“It's whole grain. Fiber. Which you lack. Eat. I insist.”
Tony pushed the plate to the side. “ You insist quite a lot for a thirteen year old. Plenty of fiber in that bar, 30 grams.”
“Okay, okay…” Peter sighed, putting the plate on the counter. He held his arms open for a hug. “Promise to call when you land.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He braced himself for impact--Peter was going to squeeze the life out of him one of these days. They were much closer in height now, and at the rate Peter was growing he’d be Tony’s height by next Christmas.
Just when Tony thought he was in the clear, Peter pushed a thermos on him. “If you won't take the breakfast, at least take this.”
“Another one of your famous juice blends?”
“You know it.”
“This isn’t going to taste like I’m drinking the color green, is it?”
“Hey! I've learned from the past. I used a recipe this time.”
Tony eyed the thermos with caution. “Well, if you say so.” He ruffled Peter’s already messy hair. “Don’t stay up too late…? That's what real parents say right?”
“You are a real parent, Dad.”
“Ha. Sure. With joint custody.”
“You and Pops are both great, in your own different ways.”
“Pssh.” Tony snatched a piece of toast off the plate. “Later, sport.”
Peter watched him go and sat down to eat his breakfast. ‘Well, he took the thermos. Mission complete.’
__________________________________
A knock to the ear had Peter dodging left, where a kick to the shin was waiting.
He winced and found himself in a headlock.
“Focus Peter.” Natasha murmured. “I’ve won.You’re dead.”
Peter kicked her leg out from under her. “Not yet--”
Natasha allowed herself to fall but kept Peter in her grasp. Shifting her weight she flipped them both over, flattening him against the floor. She poked his jugular. “That's my gun. You're gone.”
She rose to her feet and Peter huffed in frustration. Two years before he had asked to become her disciple, to learn to control his body and become his own lethal weapon. Constant peril had lead Peter to crave strength, and considering all the other Avengers fought with something a little extra, Natasha seemed to be the best choice. She didn’t need powers or enhanced weaponry to get the job done, and he admired that.
He rolled onto his back and got on his knees. His chest was still burning from a hard kick earlier.
She circled him. “Come on Pete. Let's try this again.”
He exhaled. “Okay...I think I got a little more fight left…” He stood, a little shaky.
Natasha took several steps back and then lunged. Peter dodged her first punch and grabbed hold of her arm and shifted his weight to one foot, Natasha saw through his intention to toss her and punched him. Pain blinded him for a moment, but Natasha's attack ended there.
Judging from the throbbing, Peter knew he’d be nursing a black eye.
And so he sat at the kitchen counter a hour later, pressing an ice pack against his face.
“Afternoon Pete.” He opened his right eye to see Steve pulling up a stool.
“Pops.” His eye lingered on the touches of grey at Steve’s temples. It seemed to be spreading.
“Nat did that to you? That's one nasty shiner you've got there.”
“You know Aunt Nat, she doesn't pull her punches.”
Just as Peter had aged, so had Steve, albeit a bit faster. As Steve was one of a kind, there was no telling what side effects the serum could have. After keeping Steve preserved for so long it seemed he was degenerating, and quickly.
“How are you feeling today, Pops?”
“My back’s been hurting since yesterday, and the scars haven't healed up yet.”
“Oh. Maybe you need a massage? We could call someone up from the lounge--there should be massage sessions today according to the company schedule.”
“No thanks. I think some good ol’ R&R will do the trick. Is Nat still around?”
“Down in the gym. Why?”
“I may have to have a word with her…”
“Not about this right?” He winced.
“Definitely about that. She's too hard on you Pete, you could get really hurt.”
“That's the point!” Peter bit back, and then adjusted his tone. “I need to know how to take care of myself, because you guys aren't always there to protect me. It's best for me to learn before I get really hurt.”
Steve’s eyebrows knitted in worry, and Peter stood firm. This conversation came up often, and he was tired of having it. Arguing with his Pops always made him feel guilty, but as the years wore on he knew he had to keep fighting for this.
There was always an attack, a crisis, a catastrophe that required earth’s mightiest heroes. And when they were involved, things got messy. Usually Peter was fine.
Usually.
Just as he had access to Tony’s tech, Peter had also swiped high level clearance for SHIELD’s records. He had seen most of his file, and in it he had found a growing number.
As of this month, that number was 32.
32 kidnapping plots.
32 he had clearance to see.
While Peter wasn’t as world famous as his nuclear Super family, he had been spotted by the paparazzi enough times to be labeled the ‘Stark love child’. And with such a scandalous relationship, his value was great enough to warrant ransom.
He was sure Tony knew that he knew. Peter couldn’t run a Google search on any computer, tablet, or smartphone without Jarvis finding out. He assumed this was the reason Tony didn’t complain about his lessons with Nat.
While they didn’t speak about everything out loud, they didn’t have secrets from one another. Peter liked that as much as he hated it. Tony was as open as he was stubborn.
Steve had his own brand of stubbornness, but it was always coupled with a sound argument. Taking up an argument with Steve was like arguing with the American flag--pointless. They made an interesting duo. Not that Tony would agree to that. On paper, Peter was a Stark only.
_________________________________________
“Aunt Nat, what are we doing here?”
“Starting your new training, Pete.”
They entered the building reading ‘Calvin Bailey Extension’. The modern, minimalist building featured a long hallway of still from various performances from ballet, salsa, breakdancing and capoeira.
“I skipped an important step in your training.” Natasha explained as they stopped in front of changing room. “Before we teach you any more techniques, you must first learn complete control over your body.”
“And the best way to do that is...dancing?”
Natasha handed him the duffle bag she had been carrying. “Trust me. Now go change.”
Peter walked and returned in a tight pair of shorts, a white t-shirt, and his sneakers. “The pants are kinda tight...Like a superhero outfit.”
“For flexibility of course. I’m sure you’ll get use to it.”
“.....”
They walked down another hallway. The white empty space reminded Peter of a hospital. “This place is a little creepy.”
Natasha didn’t respond.
“What kind of dance class is it?” Peter asked.
“Fusion.”
Peter narrowed his eyes at her. She was reverting to her ‘classified’ voice. “Of?”
“A few things.”
“Like?”
“It's only for twelve weeks.” Natasha replied, changing the subject. “We’ll be keeping up with your training as well.”
“You’re avoiding the subject.”
“Class is only Tuesday and Friday, for three hours.”
“Aunt Natasha…”
Eventually they came to classroom where children and pre-teens were all waiting outside. Some of the kids were already stretching and bouncing on their toes. Peter tried to collect such information as he could by watching them. ‘Binding bandages...Leotards….Ballet shoes!?’
He turned to his guardian for an explanation. “Aunt Nat--”
But she was already gone.
____>______________
“Pete?”
Peter cracked an eye open and rolled onto his back.
Steve stood in the doorway. “Were you sleeping? It's only seven.”
Peter sat up and rolled his shoulders. “I’m awake. What’s up?”
“Dinner is ready. Do you want me to bring it up or…?”
Peter ignored the throbbing sensations that pulsed through his various body parts. “I’m coming…”
He followed Steve back down to the kitchen. Bruce and Tony sat at the table. Manners tossed aside, Tony was already chewing his meatloaf. Banner had been hanging around the tower more often ever since Tony had started working on their special project.
Preoccupied with his lessons and his own ventures, Peter rarely saw Tony as of late.
From what little Tony had shared Peter knew this ‘project ’ was based off the work of Hank Pym--one of the founders of SHIELD.
As dinner was dished out and idle chatter commenced, Peter found himself pushing his meatloaf around his plate in an effort to stay awake. He was three weeks in and longing for it all to end.
“You want more potatoes champ?”
Peter looked at Steve. “Beg your pardon?”
“Tomatoes.” Tony said, and Bruce gave him a look.
Peter propped his chin in his palm. “Oh, yeah…”
Tony passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Fresh from the vine. Ruby red.”
“Uh huh…” Peter grabbed the serving spoon. “....”
When he didn't move, Tony continued. “Creamiest tomatoes this side of the Verrazano.”
Steve frowned. “Peter, are you alright?”
“....”
“Peter?”

While piloting a jet from DC on a reconnaissance mission, Natasha received an email from Tony. There was no text, only an attached image of Peter face down in a large bowl of mashed potatoes.
__________________________
Tony didn’t feel like playing ‘Papa Stark’ but Steve wasn’t letting him or Peter upstairs before they had a serious talk.
“Now a few bruises were understandable, kiddo. But snoozing in the mashed potatoes is not acceptable.” Tony shook his head. “Come on, you were raised better than that.”
“I know you like training with Nat, but these last three weeks have done a real number on you.You guys need to take it easy. Please.” Steve pleaded.
‘Aaaand there's the guilt.’ “Aw Pops…” Peter sighed. “I'm sorry. I'll talk to Aunt Nat…”
“Great.” Tony hopped out of his seat. “Well it's been fun but I gotta get back to work--” He ruffled Peter’s hair. “Stay outta trouble.”
“Wait a minute. Stark! Get back here!”
Tony made a quick getaway to the elevator.
Peter attempted to fix his hair. He didn’t want to upset Steve, but he didn’t want to disappoint Natasha either. “You know Dad. He probably doesn't want to miss any big breakthroughs.”
“He needs to sort out his priorities. What is he thinking!?”
“Don’t worry about it, Pops.”
_________________________
When they returned from the dance center and began their workout that Peter and Natasha found themselves interrupted by none other than Tony Stark himself.
Tony entered the gym and sat on a bench not far from their corner.
“Don’t mind me.”
Despite practicing dance fusion for several weeks, Peter was a little reluctant to perform in front of an audience. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
“Father Time says we haven't spent enough time together...something something parenting blah, blah, blah…” He propped his chin up with his palm. “So, here I am, being ‘invested’ or whatever.”
“Oh...kay….” Peter scratched his head.
“Perhaps you’d like to participate?” Natasha asked, holding out her hand.
“No thanks.” Tony shook his head. “Something about knocking my kid around doesn’t sit right with me.”
After watching Peter go down a few times and get chewed out a few more, Tony got up from his seat and peeled Peter from the mat. “Well, I can see what the problem is. And why you’ve been having so many issues.”
Peter wiped the sweat from his chin. “Really? Great! What am I doing wrong?”
Tony crossed his arms. “Nothing.”
“What?”
He pointed at Peter.“You’re trying to defend yourself.” He pointed at Natasha. “You’re trying to make him a mini Black Widow…”
Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“--Or some other kind of spider. Arachnid kid?” Tony shrugged.
“What?” Peter blinked.
“That's just my observation.” Tony stated. “Now, back to the lab for me.”
After the billionaire took his exit, Peter found himself lost in thought while Natasha waited patiently. When it seemed like Peter had become a little too lost, Natasha spoke.
“Do you think that's true? That I'm trying to make you into me?”
“.....” Peter struggled to keep eye contact with her. “Well, no…”
“Look at me,Peter.”
“....You’re--”
“An assassin. A soldier.” She paused.
“No!” Peter snapped. “Well okay sure, but there's more to you than that!”
Natasha sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s true.”
“Aunt Nat…”
“Be honest with me. What do you think of our training sessions?”
“They’re...effective? I mean, my moves connect a lot better now, and I can do a spin kick, which is awesome. And I don’t trip over air as much...And uh….Okay. You scare me sometimes. Like you get this look on your face like you’re actually going to kill me--but aside from that...That point I'm trying to make is, I appreciate you not just for trying to teach me. I want to keep working out with you, but not necessarily train. Am I making any sense?”
“A modicum.”
“Good. I like hanging out with you Aunt Natasha, but we can do other things...Go see a movie, get off the island. You're not just Black Widow, and you're not just my occasional instructor. You're like, well, my aunt.” He was sure he was rambling at this point.
“Natalia.”
Peter raised an eyebrow.
“That’s my real name. Natalia.”
Peter grinned.
“Okay, Aunt Natalia.”

_________________________