Idiosyncratic || Peter Parker ||

||27||

Dumping her backpack at the foot of the counter, Isabelle makes her way through the kitchen space, passing Natasha and Wanda who were occupied at the counter. Hearing the sudden sound, Tony, who had been occupying the couch from the lounge room whips his head around and eyes her. "Great - you're home." He stands up from the couch without a beat of silence, Isabelle eyed him strangely and spun on her heels to question the red-haired assassin.

"He's been sitting there all day, waiting for you to come home," Natasha explained, not looking up from the magazine she was intently reading. Isabelle stifled a laugh and returned her attention back to Tony who clicked his fingers, "Can't say that I appreciated your 'tude this morning, but I am willing to let you attend this... school..."

Isabelle beamed at Tony, a smile on her face as victory was hers. She hadn't expected him to cave so quickly but that had only been with the help and advice from other Avengers that he came to a compromise. "Your duty as 'Avenger in training' comes first, missions - meetings - training sessions - all have got to come first before your schooling. Got it?" She nodded eagerly, happiness warming her body instantly. 

"Thank you, Tony." She grinned, stepping forward and pulling him into a hug. The embrace was quick before he pulled away and looked at the teenaged girl, "another thing... since you're my daughter according to the whole world I can't have you looking like you stepped out of an eighties b-grade horror movie - here's some money and go buy decent clothes -- I don't want to find a single shirt with Star Wars nonsense on it..."

Isabelle raised a brow and looked down at her shirt that had Darth Vader surrounded by Stormtroopers taking a selfie. "But I like-." Tony cut her off with the shaking of his head, "Not any more - you're a Stark now, Kid so start acting like one... please lose the glasses you look like a nerd and you don't need them anymore - the deterioration in your eyes was due to the whole energy thing, you don't need them." Unsure whether to feel ecstatic or annoyed with Tony she simply nodded and stepped away, looking down at the wad of cash in her hand. She could buy out three entire bookstores with the amount of money in her hand, but of course, that would piss Tony off more if she did so. 

"Run along... go take Romanoff and Maximoff with you - I'm sure they're dying to do something other than reading the same entertainment magazine for hours." Tony gestured for her to leave and Isabelle nodded, turning to the two girls at the counter who looked more than ready to fill their time with something somewhat interesting. "Happy's got a car downstairs waiting for you, so you might want to hurry - you know how grumpy he gets."

Nodding again, Isabelle started to head toward the elevator behind Wanda and Natasha before she spun back around to Tony. "I uh... actually got invited to a party Friday night... I was wondering if I could go?" She had initially thought against asking Tony, but now she thought otherwise... already going behind his back and seeing Peter every night was enough, she couldn't keep snooping around especially after everything Tony has done for her. 

"You can go... if.... you tell me who bug-boy is." Tony smirked at her knowing he had her on the spot. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth in thought, contemplating on the pros and cons of revealing the Identity of Spider-Man to Tony. It was the least she could do after he had agreed to let her stay at Midtown, after all if the man had decided on anything drastic she'd be the first to warn Peter. 

Her foot tapped incessantly on the floor as she weighed out possible outcomes - both good and bad. "How positive are you that I'm telling the truth?" She quipped, raising a brow in questioning as she eyed Tony's expression. "You're a lot of things - Annoying, a nerd and and recently a pain in my ass but you're not a liar... besides I have people working on the clock twenty-four-seven so it's not that hard for me to follow up."