Peter meets The Avengers

Clint Barton

It was just an ordinary day in the tower, Peter hanging around the kitchen sipping from a warm mug of coffee. He was alone, Tony having been hoarded off into a board meeting. Pepper on his heels and shooting him disapproving glares when he tries to escape. It's lonely without him, but Peter's fine. He helps himself to a bowl of fruit loops, perching himself on a stool at the kitchen island. He's eating them peacefully when he hears with his enhanced hearing, a creaking in the metal of the vents behind him. He doesn't turn around to investigate, knowing that the person can probably see him. And giving away the fact that he knows they're there wouldn't help much if he needs to over power them.

His worries dissipate, when a panel in the vent swings open. A person dropping down and shouting "Caw caw motherfucker!" Peter doesn't really know what to make of it, but he knows instantly that it's Clint Barton. From all of the tales that Tony's told about him. He doesn't know what to say or if he should say anything at all, so he settles for swivelling in his chair as slowly as possible. He stares wide eyed at the man, who instead of wearing shield issued tactical gear is wearing a pair of grey joggers and a large green jumper.

Clint stares at him for a few moments, before his eyes go wide. "You're not Tony."

Peter shakes his head gently, "Um no Mr. Barton sir I'm not." He smiles apologetically before a look of confusion washes over his face. "Um if you don't mind me asking sir but, If you're supposed to be a spy, how did you not realise that I wasn't Mr. Stark?"

He chuckles fondly, "I'm off duty kid, I was just joking around and the back of your head looks suspiciously a lot like Tony's. If you don't mind me asking, but who are you? I don't remember Tony having a kid."

"I'm just Mr. Stark's intern, sorry Mr. Barton. If you want, I can help you get Mr. Stark properly." He shrugs his shoulders, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.

Clint smiles back, clearly giddy with excitement. "Sure kid, anything you have in mind?"

"Oh I've got just the thing Mr. Barton."

🕷

Tony was so glad it was over, he was already dozing off leant against the palm of his hand. His head was throbbing from caffeine withdrawal, and he was so ready to stumble back down to his floor and inhale a gallon of coffee. He was already down the hallway, almost at the entrance to the elevator. When he heard the swinging open of a part of the ventilator shaft. He didn't even get a chance to look up before he was met with a face full of water, and then a couple more hits to his torso. He suspected he probably looked like a drowned rat once the assault was over, his shirt was soaked and he couldn't hold in the shiver at the coldness of the water. He looked down at the remnants of the plastic from the water balloons, before looking up to the vent. He expected to only be met with the face of Clint Barton, but he didn't expect to see Peter's face right next to him. Needless to say he was shocked.

He knew that his mouth was gaping, so he snapped it shut. Placing a hand on his chest in a mock wounded gesture. "Oh lordy, I never thought you would gang up on me Pete I'm hurt."

"It had to happen Mr. Stark, I'm sorry." He looks genuinely sorry, but that doesn't matter. He knew what he did, and he was prepared to face the consequences. Which he was definitely going to.

"It's fine kid, I'm already planning your demise, don't worry your cute little head about it."