Progress Report

Midtown has been looking for a second Physics teacher all year, but it’s proving hard to find someone who is both qualified to teach physics to the high level demanded by Midtown, and good with young adults. In the meantime, Monica has been doing the work of two people. It’s been hard, and because her passion lies in teaching rather than in administration, it is the paperwork side of things that has taken the hit. Namely, the internship program. She just hasn’t had time to pay it as much attention as she should. She really should be more pro-active about keeping track of who is where and what they are doing, but the majority of students participating in internships are doing it outside of school hours and have already found placements. It’s hitting her now that she has no proof of any of the work these students claim to be doing and has no idea whether these internships are truly of any value.

Judging by the video call she’s just witnessed between Peter Parker and Tony Stark, Peter Parker’s internship is highly questionable. From the sounds of things, Peter’s just messing about unsupervised in Tony Stark’s personal labs, doing things that are a lot too dangerous for a high school student to be anywhere near.

She spends her weekend going over the minimal paperwork she has for it. She hadn’t looked too closely when she’d received it, overjoyed that a student had managed to find his own placement, and not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. She’d ticked Peter off her list and returned to trying to find somewhere that would take Eugene Thompson. Nowhere had wanted to take him because his father had such a reputation for being, to put it politely, difficult to work with. Flash’s parents had been breathing down her neck, making demands of her, and she’d just thanked her lucky stars Peter had managed to land an internship at such a prestigious company and filed the paperwork.

Looking at it now, the paperwork is woefully inadequate. There are no details of what Peter is doing, not even a department. There are no start and end dates or hours recorded. The job description is just “Intern”. Contact details are for one “H. Hogan, Asset Management”. She can’t even remember calling him to check any details. She’s been terribly, terribly lax, and it’s time to remedy that.

On Monday morning, Peter dashes into class right on the bell, with the wrong textbook. The whole class stirs from their Monday morning stupor to stare at him and whisper about Iron Man and the Stark Internship and how Peter actually knows Tony Stark and does stuff in his lab. Ned Leeds pokes him in the side and whispers loudly enough for Monica to hear from her desk, “Has the green stuff eaten the tower yet?”

“Happy kicked it and it chased him,” Peter answers delightedly, “But we fixed it. Kind of.”

“You have the best life,” Ned says enviously, “You should have filmed it, you could be a YouTube celebrity.”

“I kind of did,” Peter says, “Only I can’t show it to anyone because of all the top secret stuff and Happy would be mad.”  

After class, as Monica is clearing away her demonstration equipment and preparing for her next class, Peter approaches her desk.

“Ms Warren?” He asks cautiously, “You - you know how you wanted to know more about my internship?”

“Yes, Peter?” She asks briskly, “I’m afraid I’m going to need more details about the exact nature of what you’re doing, along with a progress report and a meeting with your supervisor, or I can’t allow you to continue the program.”

“Mr Stark says you can come to the lab with me after school on Friday. You can’t come sooner because we have to do some… uh… maintenance.” He has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed. They both know what the maintenance is.

“Oh,” Monica says in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting an invitation to Tony Stark’s lab. She’d thought he’d send some kind of underling to a meeting in her office, if he acknowledged her request for a meeting at all. The most she’d been hoping for was H. Hogan, Asset Management to drop by for half an hour. This feels like overkill somehow, like those companies that invite the auditors in when they’re being investigated for fraud. “I’ll see if I can clear my schedule.” She has a staff meeting on Friday afternoon, but Principal Morita will excuse her this once.

“So you’ll come?” Peter asks awkwardly. “Only, all my stuff is there and it’s easier for you to come to the lab than to try to bring it to school.”

“Yes, I’ll come,” she replies, “I look forward to seeing your project, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes light up. “The labs are really cool, Ms. Warren! You’ll love them. I have to go, I have gym, but I’ll tell Mr Stark you’re coming, and then Friday I have Physics last anyway so you can just come with me when Happy picks me up.” With that, he dashes off to his next class, dodging incoming freshmen, waving from the door.

Monica shifts Peter’s Chemistry textbook, which he’s managed to leave on her desk, to make room for her own notes. A piece of loose note-paper flutters out, covered in complex chemical equations written in Peter’s childish handwriting. Presumably what he’s been doing all class instead of paying attention. She glances through it quickly as she waits for her class to be seated, and, well, she knows it’s been a while since she’s done any chemistry beyond what she would need to cover a 9th grade General Science class, but it looks like a foreign language.

Friday rolls around quickly. With so many classes to teach and papers to grade, and all the internships to follow up, and detention to run on Wednesday, and her brother’s birthday on Thursday, she doesn’t have a lot of time to think about the meeting with Tony Stark. Which is not to say she doesn’t think about it. Now that it’s been brought to her attention, it’s highly unusual for Stark Industries to take on interns at all, let alone high school interns, let alone high school interns that haven’t been put forward by the school. She hadn’t been notified of any internship opportunities at Stark Industries before Peter had got his, and usually if companies were looking for high schoolers, Midtown was the first place they looked. So it’s very odd on that level, even leaving aside the fact that he has personal contact with Tony Stark in a company with thousands and thousands of employees. And as for what Peter could possibly be doing that would result in a lab taken over by glowing green slime, she was at a complete loss.

“Are you ready?” Peter asks her, once class is over and the rest of the students have stampeded out the door.

Monica checks that her list of questions for Tony Stark is safely in her briefcase. “I’m ready.”

“Happy’s outside,” Peter says, “He’s kind of grumpy, but he’s not really, he’s only pretending. He doesn’t like it when I’m late, though. He slides up the divider thing and pretends he’s not listening to me. I told him you were my teacher and to be nice to you.”

Peter picks up his backpack. There are at least five enormous text books in it, straining the seams so one of the straps is ripping off with the weight, but he doesn’t seem to notice, so it can’t be as heavy as it looks. Monica walks beside him through the corridor, frowning her disapproval at the few people who jeer at him for hanging out with a teacher.

Happy turns out to be a large man in a black suit and sunglasses, waiting beside a shiny black town car with tinted windows. “Any weapons?” He asks her gruffly as she approaches.

Monica falters for words, taken aback.

Peter, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think this is an odd greeting. “Hey Happy! Of course she doesn’t have any weapons, she’s my physics teacher. Why would you even ask that? Ms. Warren, this is Happy, don’t mind him, he’s always like this.”

“Please open your briefcase,” Happy instructs her, “It’s my job to ensure the safety and security of Stark Industries and its assets. You’ll be required to leave your briefcase with me, along with your phone and any cameras or recording devices you have with you. You must be with a Stark Industries employee at all times while in the building or any vehicles belonging to the company. You are not permitted to take notes. You are not permitted to touch anything without the express permission of Mr Stark. You are not permitted to open any doors, drawers or cupboards. You are not permitted to disclose any information to any type of media outlet, including posting it on the internet or social media. If you disclose any information to a competitive company, you will be prosecuted. If you are found in any part of the building you do not have permission to be in, you will be arrested for trespassing. If you damage anything deliberately or accidentally, you will be held liable. If you in any way threaten the safety or security of Tony Stark or Peter Parker, you will be removed from the building and prosecuted. Do you understand?”

Monica nods dazedly, holding out her open briefcase for him to look in.

Peter is staring at Happy, wide-eyed. “Woah, Happy, that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say! Do you say that to all the visitors? No-one’s ever come to the lab when I’ve been there before.”

“Get in the car, kid,” Happy says impatiently. “OK, you’re good. Sign here.” Monica signs the clipboard he holds out for her. He nods for her to get in the car. Peter holds the door for her and follows her in.

“Wow, that was intense, Ms. Warren!” Peter exclaims once they’re on the road. “I guess it’s because Mr. Stark isn’t here or something.”

Monica takes that to mean he wasn’t given the same briefing when he first went to the lab, and doesn’t that raise some interesting questions?

“Did you not have a security screening, Peter?” she asks.

Peter pauses for a moment. “Happy said I couldn’t show my vlog to anyone, but then Mr Stark let me video him saying Hi to Aunt May, so I showed her that bit, but not any of the other stuff.”

Monica doesn’t know how to respond to the fact that not only did Peter film a vlog featuring what seems to be a highly confidential department of Stark Industries, Tony Stark, the ultimate image of a man who doesn’t have time for children, had actively participated in it.

When they reach the new Stark Industries building (this one separate to the new Avengers Compound upstate), Happy doesn’t pull the car up and allow them to step out as Monica had been expecting. Instead, he drives around the back and into an underground carpark, pulling into a space beside a silver Lamborghini. Monica gets out, taking great care to ensure her door doesn’t hit the paintwork of the sports car. Damaging Tony Stark’s brand new Lamborghini would be a bad way to start the interview. She hands her briefcase to Happy, trusting herself to remember all of the questions on the list she had made.

They make their way to an elevator that slides open as they approach. It has no buttons inside, just slides swiftly and silently upwards uninstructed.

They emerge into a lounge area filled with couches and a small kitchen area at one end. Peter drops his backpack on one of the couches and heads directly to the kitchenette. “Do you want a snack, Ms. Warren? Or a coffee or something? There’s cookies.”

Faintly, Monica hears a female voice, much like the one in Peter’s phone, announcing, “Peter, Happy, and Monica Warren are waiting in the lounge for you,” and then, after a short pause, “She is Peter’s teacher, here to discuss his internship.”

She takes a glass of water and sits carefully on a couch under Happy’s watchful eye. Peter flops on the couch opposite, dropping crumbs from his cookie like he owns the place. “Are you sure you don’t want a cookie?” He mumbles through his mouthful. “Happy made them, they’re great.”

Monica doesn’t take a cookie, feeling it would be somehow unprofessional to eat while discussing internships with Tony Stark. Instead, she perches stiffly on the sofa, trying not to notice Happy staring her down as though she’s a legitimate threat. The room is surprisingly plain, given Tony Stark’s well-known love of luxury. A bit disappointing, in fact. She’d hoped she’d get a chance to see the R&D labs, full of equipment she can only dream of, and innovations she can’t even imagine. It seems a shame to come to Stark Industries and not even get a peek at what they do. Peter had seemed to think they would be going into the labs, but it seems he was mistaken.

“Shall I go get him?” Peter asks, “He’s probably caught up in something.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Monica replies. She feels slightly unwell at the idea of disturbing Tony Stark in the middle of developing a new piece of tech. He’s famous for having a quick temper and sharp wit with people who get in his way. She doesn’t want Peter to be ripped to shreds by his hero for the simple crime of interrupting. While it’s annoying that Mr Stark isn’t ready for the interview, it is only what she was expecting.

“I’ll go get him,” Peter says, jumping up and crossing the room to a door opposite the elevator.

“Don’t run!” Happy shouts after him, but it does no good. Peter disappears at speed down the corridor.

Monica is left to uncomfortably avoid eye contact with Happy.

Peter doesn’t come back.

Monica looks at her watch. She’s been sitting in the room for forty-five minutes. Peter has been gone for 30. She clears her throat and addresses Happy, who is still standing stone-faced beside the elevator. “I really must see Mr Stark today. It’s very important that we discuss Peter’s internship. Could you check their whereabouts?” She can feel the power balance tipping strongly in Tony Stark’s favour with every moment that passes.

Happy not-very-subtly rolls his eyes and speaks into his watch. “Tony, the kid’s teacher wants to talk to you.”

He must hear the reply in an earpiece, because he beckons for her to follow him out of the room. She stands, smoothing her skirt and reaching for her briefcase before she remembers she’d handed it over earlier. Happy leads her through the same door Peter had disappeared through and down a hallway past several closed doors.

The room Happy takes her to is a workshop, somehow less shiny and futuristic than she’d been expecting. It looks quite a lot look the workshop at school, in fact, but with more space and equipment in better condition. Black Sabbath blasts from invisible speakers. In the centre of the floor is a large workbench. Tony Stark and Peter are huddled beside it, heads bent over a small metallic object in Mr Stark’s hand. Peter’s fiddling with something on it with a pair of tweezers, frowning in concentration, while Stark points something out to him.

Happy clears his throat loudly. No-one acknowledges him until Peter finishes whatever he’s doing and looks up in delight. “You’re fixed, Droney!” He says to the object, “Go and sit on Happy’s head.” Apparently, he’d noticed they were there despite his concentration.

The item in Tony Stark’s hand rises smoothly in the air, hovering for a second before smoothly flying over and settling on Happy’s head.

Happy harrumphs quietly but otherwise pretends not to notice.

“Ms. Warren!” Peter exclaims, like he’s just remembered why he came to the workshop, “I’m so sorry! I came to get Mr Stark, but then we started fixing Droney and I forgot. Mr Stark, this is my Physics teacher Ms. Warren. She’s in charge of the internship program and she wants to ask you some questions.”

“Ms. Warren?” Mr Stark approaches her, holding his hand out to shake. He’s not at all what she’d been expecting. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of a suit, and his ever-present sunglasses are nowhere to be seen. He’s smaller than he looks on TV and somehow less intimidating. But his chest is glowing through his shirt, and she can’t escape the knowledge that she’s talking to Iron Man.

“Good afternoon, Mr Stark. I have some concerns regarding Peter’s Internship. I’d like an overview of Peter’s job here and a progress report for the project he’s working on, if you would,” Monica keeps her voice firm and professional. Tony Stark may be Iron Man, but he shouldn’t be treated any differently to any other internship supervisor (who is she kidding, she’s already treating him differently by coming to him rather than calling him in).The voice-operated drone nestled in Happy’s hair is very distracting, but she powers through it. “If what Peter’s doing here doesn’t fulfil the requirements of the internship program, his employment will have to either be terminated or change to satisfy the requirements.”

She can see the smile falling away from Peter’s face, his eyes going big and worried at the prospect of losing his Stark Internship. She keeps her eyes on Tony Stark. The look on Peter’s face would wear down the resolve of the most hard-hearted person in the world. She thinks about how Tony Stark had kept her waiting, and his reputation for doing whatever he wants whenever he wants. Her determination to make up for her inadequate work as internship coordinator hardens. “I also have concerns about the impact of this internship on Peter’s schoolwork, as well as some issues related to Health and Safety,” she continues, “I thought we could start with a run-down on what exactly Peter’s position here involves.” She feels naked doing this without her desk, and with nothing in her hands. Tony Stark is looking right through her. She revises her judgement that he’s less intimidating in real life.

“Concerns about the impact of this on Peter’s schoolwork? What, the kid’s been falling asleep in class again? I’ve got an idea of how to fix that - try making your class more interesting. Peter’s learning a hell of a lot more here than he does at school. Actually using that brain of his and doing something practical instead of sitting in a classroom memorising answers,” Tony Stark says impatiently.

Monica wants to defend following the curriculum and tell him that Midtown works at a very advanced level. She tries to make her lessons interesting, with demonstrations and practical activities and real-life applications, but they still have to cover the basics to create a solid foundation for higher learning, not to mention work at a pace suitable for the majority of the class. And then there are things like funding and class sizes and time constraints, as well as having to work with the available resources. She doesn’t, because it will only back up the argument that Peter is getting more benefit from this internship than from school, so it doesn’t matter that he’s neglecting his schoolwork.

“Mr Stark!” Peter sounds alarmed, “Ms. Warren’s classes are totally interesting, she’s a really good teacher.”

Monica would be flattered if he wasn’t so obviously lying. And if he hadn’t fallen asleep in her class twice.   

“Peter helps me out,” Tony Stark says, “Watches me work and all that. He’s been doing a few projects of his own, too. Physics, mechanical engineering, electrical engineering, chemistry, programming, bio, math, all the fun stuff…”

Monica tries not to gape at him. No wonder Peter’s been tired. Internships usually fit into one of those categories, sometimes do a project that intersects into two, but multiple projects in different fields is unheard of for a high school intern. Of course, they’re probably minor projects, nothing too time consuming or advanced, but still. “I’d like a progress update on his main project, and anything else he’s been working on, please.”

Tony Stark turns to Peter. “Take it away, Pete.”

“Do - do you want to start in here, then?” Peter stammers awkwardly, “OK, well, this is the workshop. It’s where we build stuff. Like Droney. Come here, Droney.”

The drone Peter and Tony had been working on when she entered rises from atop Happy’s head and floats over to hover in front of Peter.

“Droney’s a surveillance drone I made. He monitors stuff when I’m not here or can’t do it myself safely,” Peter starts, “We’ve just been fixing him because he got a bit damaged last week when my chemistry project got a bit out of hand - oh, no Ms. Warren, it’s okay, no one got hurt or anything, and it stopped, I think it ran out of fuel or something, I’m still working on that - anyway, I can send Droney in and he’ll get the data and report back to Karen. You know Karen, she’s my s… AI, you heard her in my phone.”

Monica waits until Peter pauses for breath. She doesn’t like the sound of whatever Peter’s doing that requires a drone to be used because it’s too dangerous for him to do himself. “Why do you need to send a drone in, Peter?”

“Oh, that’s just for when I’m trying something new, or for checking out something that’s hard to access quickly. See, this is a camera,” Peter points to a tiny lens that’s almost invisible. “That records a high def, 360 degree view of the area. This one’s a microphone for sound recording. There’s also a heat sensor, a radioactivity sensor, a multi-type gas detector, a sampling pipette, a composition probe and a pH probe. Do you want to see it in action? It’s really cool, Ms. Warren, you’ll like it.”

Peter looks at her hopefully, like her nephew on his birthday when he’d asked if she wanted to play with his Iron Man figurine. In fairness, the drone is really cool. She badly wants to see how it works, but she’s trying hard not to let anything influence her impartial judgement on this internship. Not Peter’s enthusiasm, not how cool the drone is, not the way Happy is still watching her like she might attack at any minute and especially not how proud Tony Stark looks when Peter’s describing what he’s made. “A demonstration would be fantastic,” She tells him.

“Droney, update me on Explosion Room B,” Peter instructs. As the drone flies off, Peter pulls his phone from his pocket. “Karen, show me the report from Droney.” He sets the phone on the workbench, screen up.

“Hello Peter,” the phone replies in a calm female voice, “Droney is currently on route to Explosion room B. How was school?”

“School was good. I got an A on my English assignment.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Peter. I know you worked hard on that. Droney has entered Explosion Room B. Would you like me to display the data?”

“Yes please, Karen. Can I have a visual scan first?”

“Certainly, Peter.” The phone screen blinks, a small holograph appearing above it, slowly spinning to show the inside of a metal-lined room, empty except for a small flask in one corner and an enormous blob of a green, jelly-like substance that has expanded to fill most of the room and flow out the door. The door seems to have come off its hinges, an impressive feat in a room designed to absorb and contain energy blasts.

“Would you like to listen to the sound recording?” Karen asks.

“Yes,” Peter replies. A slow squelching, sucking noise comes through the speaker as the blob in the holograph wobbles and settles. “I changed my mind, Karen, don’t play the recording. Just show me all the data.”

The holographic view of the room zips out of sight, replaced by a screen with writing on it.

“Are you okay Ms. Warren?” Peter looks at her through the holographic screen.

Monica realises her mouth is hanging open. “Did you make this, Peter?” She has a Master’s degree in Applied Physics and she definitely wouldn’t be able to make something like this. Of course, this is more in the realm of robotics and computer engineering, not really her area of expertise, but still, it’s impressive.

“I made Droney,” Peter says. “Mr Stark made the phone and Karen and helped with Droney. You can come back Droney, I’ve got what I need.”

“Very impressive, Peter,” Monica says, “If you can show me your write up, I’ll make a record of what you’ve been doing for your internship file. This will look fantastic on a college application.”

Peter’s face dims a little. Maybe she wasn’t enthusiastic enough. She really does think it’s amazing, she’s just so used to presenting a controlled, professional persona in front of her students that she no longer has the same freedom of expression that she once did.

“I haven’t written a report for Droney,” Peter admits, “I mostly just made him because it was fun. But I have written work for some of the other stuff I’ve been doing…”

“I think Peter wants to show you his other projects,” Mr. Stark interjects in a tone that suggests it’s in her best interest to let Peter show her what else he’s been working on. It reminds her forcibly of her brother insisting she look at the pictures her nephew had drawn.

“Are you telling me that’s not your main project, Peter?” Monica asks in disbelief.

Peter grins, a glowing, cheeky, genuine smile that he rarely displays at school. He’s different here, somehow. Maybe it’s because he’s in his element, doing what he excels at without all the restrictions of organised schooling. Maybe it’s that he finds what he’s talking about exciting and he doesn’t have to curb that the way he does in class. It could be the lack of social pressures and self-consciousness. Whatever it is, Peter is standing taller than he does at school. He even seems like he’s moving more gracefully as he leads them out of the workshop and into the neighbouring lab.

This lab is more like what she’d been expecting when she’d imagined a Stark Industries lab, although in her imagination it had been full of scientists and lab techs and assistants, all hard at work developing and testing new technology. In reality, the only people in it are herself, Tony Stark, Peter Parker and Happy. It’s not set up for more people either. She’s really in Tony Stark’s private lab, the legendary place where no one but Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, and a very select few others are permitted. Peter has a workstation in the corner. Karen greets him as he approaches, welcoming him back.

As Monica watches him prepare to show her his projects, it’s really hits her how special this is. Nobody just gets allowed in to Tony Stark’s private work area, especially not people he doesn’t know. But Peter’s got his own work station, and Mr Stark is letting her see it because he wants to keep Peter. Peter is important to him. He values Peter’s input enough to allow a lowly high school physics teacher into his inner sanctum.

“I’ve got stuff written up for this one, Ms. Warren,” Peter says, handing over a notebook.

Monica flicks through it, looking over pages and pages of calculations of speed and velocity and momentum and gravitational pull. There are huge numbers of pendulum calculations, along with various equations of rotation and energy usage. It’s far more advanced than what Peter’s class is currently studying. Some of it is theory she hadn’t learned until university. No wonder he spends most of his time in her class watching videos on his laptop. “When did you learn this, Peter?” she asks, “This is very impressive. Is there an application for it?”

“I found a textbook in a dumpster last year,” Peter replies, which is not at all what Monica had been expecting him to say. “I wanted to figure out how Spider-Man does his stuff.”

“Pete’s really into Spider-Man,” Tony Stark says teasingly. “Big fan. It’s embarrassing really.”

“Spider-Man can lift a bus with his bare hands!” Peter defends himself, “He’s an awesome superhero.”

“So this project is about Spider-Man?” Monica clarifies. She’s well aware that Peter’s really into Spider-Man. She’s lost count of how many times she’s caught him watching Spider-Man videos, and there had been a rumor going around a while back that Peter claimed to know him.

Tony Stark interjects, “Spider-Man runs into stuff a lot. Walls, streetlamps, buildings. Misses his landings and ends up in swimming pools.”

“No, no he doesn’t,” Peter protests vehemently, “He hardly ever does that anymore.”

“Whatever you say, kid,” Mr Stark smirks at the rise he’s got out of Peter. “Anyway, this stuff’s all going to be programmed into Karen when I upgrade the suit. Path mapping stuff, for picking the best way through the streets and knowing where to attach the webbing for the best swing and all that.”

Peter freezes, his eyes going wide. “There’s going to be a new suit? And I’m helping program it?” Monica has never seen a student look this excited in her twenty year career as a teacher. “Omigod, Mr Stark, really? That’s awesome! I can’t believe you’re actually using my data for the new suit, this is the coolest thing ever! Can I tell Ned?”

“No, you can’t tell Ned,” Mr Stark tells him, but he looks like he’s holding back a smile as he mutters to Happy, “He’s definitely going to tell him.”

Peter is already pulling out his phone and texting someone.

Happy glares at Monica. “That’s confidential. You can’t tell anyone that.”

Peter is practically skipping as they make their way into the next lab. This one’s smaller, set up for chemistry, and faintly tinged with green. There is a small robot scrubbing the floor. At one end, the green substance Droney had shown them is flowing out of a doorway.

“Ah, yes,” Monica remembers the her health and safety concerns, “Regarding the lab accident… could you explain the circumstances and the safety precautions and supervision in place at the time. I have concerns about a fifteen year-old performing dangerous experiments alone.”

“Happy was here!” Peter protests, “and it would still have happened if Mr Stark was here.”

“If a lab accident of this scale is expected to happen even with an expert performing the experiment, it shouldn’t be done,” Monica says severely.

“But -” Peter starts.

Tony Stark cuts him off. “I’m starting to think you’ve never met Peter. You should be thanking me that this happened here and not in your school labs.”

In all honesty, Monica’s starting to think that too.

“It wasn’t expected to happen! You don’t expect accidents!” Peter says defensively, “And there’s nothing I did that should have caused that. All I did was add extra salt. It’s not toxic or anything. Anyway, it’s not moving anymore, so that’s good.”

“Peter’s working on fixing this. That’s actually what he’s going to be doing this afternoon,” Tony Stark tells her, waving aside Peter’s defense.

“I can’t, I’m volunteering later,” Peter says meaningfully, “I don’t have time.”

“Uh, yeah, you do. I’m sure Queens can survive without your volunteer work for one Friday night.”

Peter looks like he’s going to answer back (Peter Parker, answering back to Tony Stark, maybe she really doesn’t know him), but Monica breaks in. “Volunteering, Peter? What is it that you’ve been doing? A letter of recommendation from the organisation will look great in college applications.”

Mr Stark answers for him. “Oh you know, helping old ladies with their groceries, giving people directions, that sort of thing.”

Peter makes an indignant noise. “I do more than that.”

“That’s very admirable, Peter,” Monica says. Not many of the boys she teaches would think of helping the elder community, let alone do it for no reward. “How often do you do it? I think you might be over-taxing yourself with volunteer work and an internship of this scale on top of school.”

“I’m not over-taxing myself!” Peter insists. There’s a sceptical snort from Happy and a raised eyebrow from Mr Stark.

“Are you gonna show of your project or what, Pete?” Tony Stark says.

“Oh, right, my project. This is like, my main project. Just a sec.” Peter pulls his laptop from his bag, along with a thick notebook, placing them on the bench and turning on the computer. It whirrs, making a strange thumping noise as it starts up.

“Jesus, where did you find that thing? You need an upgrade, stat,” Mr Stark comments.

“Someone just threw it out, can you believe that?” Peter says, as his home screen loads. He clicks into a folder, bringing up a report. “This is just an outline, Ms Warren.”

Monica moves closer to the screen to read what’s on it. High Strength Liquid Adhesive For Medical Triage, the title reads.

“So it’s like using superglue, only it can be applied from a distance and cover a bigger area,” Peter tells her. “So I can - I mean so someone can shoot it out of a w-an application device super quickly and help people a fast as possible. I’ve been trying to get a painkiller or a sedative in there as well, so people aren’t panicking and in pain while they wait for more help. Only I have to figure out how to make it not sticky to touch for, like the emergency services and stuff, and so it doesn’t stick the hurt people to stuff. Oh, and I need to make sure it won’t cause infections, and and won’t dissolve. I’ve made a ton of variations, but the last experiment had a few issues, so I’m working on that…”

Monica scrolls through pages where Peter has repeated the experiment over and over with tiny tweaks and analysed the results.

“This is confidential,” Happy reminds her, “If we see this stuff popping up anywhere, we know how it got leaked.”

Monica looks up at Peter. “Where did you learn this?”

Peter shrugs. “It’s pretty easy to figure out. I read some articles about it. Aunt May’s got access to the medical journal databases.”

Monica makes a mental note to speak to Peter’s aunt and his chemistry teacher. This is not a high school project. This is masters level, minimum. She’d known that Peter was gifted. He always did well, even in a school full of gifted students. He was in academic decathlon and always got good grades, although his homework and attendance over the last year had been letting him down. But this is something else.

“That’s not patented yet,” Tony Stark says, “but when it is…”

“Hey, Mr Stark? Mr Stark!” Peter stiffens suddenly, alert. “I think maybe we should wrap this up so I can go do my volunteer work.”

“You’re staying here and cleaning this up today, kid.” Tony Stark indicates the blob flowing out of what Monica assumes is Explosion Room B. “But I think we’re finished here.”

Peter grabs his arm. “Is anyone else cold?” He asks, in a strangely urgent non sequitur. “I’ve got goosebumps.”

Tony Stark becomes suddenly serious. “Everyone stay here - that means you too, Pete - I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I could come with you,” Peter starts.

“Stay here, with Happy and your teacher,” Tony Stark says sternly.

“What’s going on?” Monica asks, looking between them. “Is something wrong?”

“Friday’s gone quiet,” Mr Stark replies, which means nothing to Monica, but seems to mean something to Happy, because he reaches for his gun. “It’s probably nothing, I’m just going to check things out real quick before Happy takes you home.” He’s fiddling with his watch, failing to hide his concern when when whatever he’s trying to do doesn’t work.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Tony Stark says as he departs, closing the door behind him.

Happy moves to stand between Monica and Peter and the door. Monica looks at Peter, intending to comfort him if the suddenly tense atmosphere is making him nervous. Peter is crouching, like an athlete preparing himself. His cuffs are unbuttoned, showing flashes of metal at his wrists. “Don’t worry, Ms Warren,” he grins at her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Then everything goes dark.