~Forged~

Not A Vine (Part One)

 A/N

Soooo I've kinda been binging on Spider-Man fanfics, so you'll probably be seeing lots of Spider-Man one-shots, my nonexistent readers :) It's MCU, once again, but definitely lighter and just fun.

An AU, and I decided to do the wrong number (since I've been reading a LOT of those), but with a slight twist. It was actually pretty fun to write XD

Tony's P.O.V.

     "Hey, Rhodey. Do you mind telling the Scary Russian Spy you're sitting next to that I didn't need that glitter bomb in my lab? In my face? I have a meeting, and I'm as late as I can be."

       Tony was not having a good day. He'd had nothing but coffee for the last 72 hours, Pepper was mad at him for being, (and these were her words) the world's biggest idiot, which pretty much meant not being allowed to talk to her except for the few acid comments about being late to meetings. Speaking of which, he missed several of them; and on top of it all, Fury was mad at him. Typical.

     And then, of course Natasha, having picked up a thing or two from Clint, decided to prank him.

    Yeah, Tony wasn't in the best of moods. Unfortunately, he had by now concluded there was no getting out this one. He was on the phone with Rhodey, ready to beg for help. Well, any help he can get in the five minutes he has while on his way to the meeting. Man, he was never going to live this down. By Odin's beard, he really hoped Rhodey would know how to get pink glitter off of him in five minutes before he had to face Fury and the other Avengers.

       He couldn't have been more wrong when he thought that he couldn't possibly be more humiliated if Rhodey didn't figure something out. His heart nearly stopped when not Rhodey's voice came over the phone, but someone else's.

        "Ned, is this supposed to be a new vine, or something? I haven't seen/heard this one, didn't know they had one of Tony Stark being pranked, but-- oh holy shiitake mushrooms! That one almost got me-- Anyways, Ned, dude, I'm busy, so please stop calling me when I'm in the middle of-- oh, I think I'm rambling, but that happens when you're trying not to get shot-- what was I saying? Oh yeah; stop calling me when I'm in the middle of patrol--!"

     Was that...a cop?! No, no, wait...a kid's voice? A kid-cop?!

Peter's P.O.V.

      Peter thought he was doing pretty well, actually. He was even more sleep deprived than usual, he'd been out on patrol all night until now, at 9:47. Thank Loki it was the weekend. Not to mention, he took a beating when he stopped a robbery. Mostly because he was tired, and therefore, a little too slow to completely avoid the knife. Seriously. Why did people still use knives? A gun was much more effective. Not that Peter would know. He never used guns, what with what happened, and...well, it was easy to understand why. But still!

       Bang!

      Oh, yeah, focus, Peter, speaking of guns, you're supposed to be avoiding the bullets spewing from one.

      He was currently in an alleyway, and had been up all night, and therefore, exhausted. His eyes were narrowed into slits, and since he'd upgraded his mask to be able to exhibit his facial expressions better, they too were narrowed. This gang trouble was taking way too long to wrap up.

      Then he got the phone call.

      Barely glancing at the number-- from the first few digits, he could tell it was Ned-- he answered the call while connecting it to the ear piece he had installed in his mask. He wasn't rich, but hey, he made due. He was actually pretty proud of what he's done to help with being Spider-Man.

     A very familiar voice that he was not expecting nearly caused him to get shot, skimming his arm as he flipped over one of the gang members. "Hey, Rhodey. Do you mind telling the Scary Russian Spy you're sitting next to that I didn't need that glitter bomb in my lab? In my face? I have a meeting, and--"

       Peter choked as he staggered forward, the unexpected pain and the pure ridiculousness of the statement on the phone startling him. He leapt onto the wall, trying to recover.

        "Ned, is this supposed to be a new vine, or something? I haven't seen/heard this one, didn't know they had one of Tony Stark being pranked, but-- oh holy shiitake mushrooms!" Another bang went off next to Peter's arm as he dodged, but this time, it punched into his left web shooter. It was unfortunately a bit bulky, but he realized with dizzy relief it saved him from potentially having his wrist crippled. His mouth started to run faster as he struggled to keep up with the whirlwind of action and death.

     "That one almost got me-- Anyways, Ned, dude, I'm busy, so please stop calling me when I'm in the middle of-- oh, I think I'm rambling, but that happens when you're trying not to get shot--"  Another gunshot. Good, his right web shooter still worked, it wasn't hit. He was struggling enough with only one.  "What was I saying? Oh yeah; stop calling me when I'm in the middle of patrol--!"

        Swoosh-- thud!

       Peter surveyed his work, breathing heavily. Man, his leg hurt way more than it should. It had only been poked a little.  He had webbed the last of the gangsters and flung them into the last group, and they all seemed unconscious. But that little stunt with the robbery, plus this last little event, had done a number on him.

      "--Is this?! Are you okay?! By the gods, answer me, and what the hell did you mean by trying not to get shot?!"

     Oh. Right. He was in the middle of a call. Except, that wasn't Ned. Which meant...

     "Um, Ned? Please tell me this is a joke. I'm not in the mood. I still have to leave a sticky note for the boys in blue," he chuckled breathlessly, still worried, even as he mocked one of the gangster's earlier attempts at wit. Seriously. Who did these guys think they were trying to be? They seriously needed to quit the macho act.

     There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. "I don't know any one named 'Ned,' bud. And no one is weird enough to leave sticky notes for the police." The voice sounded like he was close to freaking out-- except he was a bit too confused to do that at the moment.

     If Tony Stark ever did freak out about anything.

    Maybe it was a filter. Oh dear Loki, he hoped it was a filter. He didn't know what he'd do if this really did turn out to be his idol. His Parker Luck couldn't be that bad, could it? Because embarrassing himself in front of his role model would be pretty bad.

     He chuckled a bit breathlessly, opening his mouth to respond, "I've always known I was special--"

      Danger. Left. Life threatening. 

       His senses blared, making his vision dizzy as he instinctively lurched to the right, not really sure whether he would honestly make it this time. He was too exhausted, too slow. Yeah, thanks Spidey sense. A little late.

      There was a loud sound, a small boom that made his spider senses go crazy. Two of them, actually. Thunder? No, quieter. He dimly realized his subconscious was rambling about the noise, when he really should be worried about the blossoming pain in his shoulder and upper thigh.

      Thwap! Thwap!

      Within a second, he'd webbed up the man who'd apparently shot him. Guess not all of them were knocked out.

     Oh. Ow. The pain seemed to hit him all at once, and he staggered, before crumpling to the ground, catching himself on an elbow. His vision was a bit bleary. Ugh. He was too sleep deprived for this. Dimly, he could hear someone's voice. He must be delusional from the pain if he was listening to Tony Stark rant.

     MJ was going to be so mad at him.

    And with that, he blacked out.

A/N

Part Two, maybe later? I'm off to bed (I know, it's crazy. My normal bed time for myself is 3 AM, but I'm trying to be *cough* responsible. *cough*

Anyways. This was fun to write, and whenever I have time I'll add a part two, but thanks for reading, :) my dear nonexistent readers.