The Waterspout

In Which the Compound Looks Pretty in the Evening

Mr. Stark met him outside the compound, looking high of spirits. Peter waved, bounding out of the car and closing the door behind him. Happy was left with his hand outstretched, glowering, and Peter cringed in apology. He wasn’t used to a chauffeur. Of course, Happy would be scandalized if referred to as such, but he had been one in the past.

    “Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter called, after thanking Happy.

    “Kid,” the man replied, jerking his chin in greeting. “Good week?”

    “Yeah. Not anything too high off the ground, at least after the lizard-guy.” Peter leaped up the steps to stand beside the man, leaning against the railing.

    Stark took off his sunglasses, waving to Happy, who drove the car off. “Good, good. The lizard-guy sounds screwed up, from what I’ve heard.”

    “What have you heard?”
    “Not much.”

    Peter relayed the story quickly as they started walking along the compound. “So anyway, I destroyed the device. Once I did, the gecko dude could start explaining, and he said the bracelet formed a ‘psychic and physiological connection with a creature’. He was mad at me for destroying it, obviously, but I let him off without calling the police.”

    Stark nodded. “Sounds promising. Let’s see this bracelet, shall we?”

    Peter pulled the parts of the device from his pocket, all but pouring them into Mr. Stark’s outstretched hands. He poked at them, lingering beside one of the compound’s windows. Neither of them said anything for a good long time, Peter fidgeting nervously as the older man studied the scraps of metal and chemicals in his hand.

    When what had to have been ten or fifteen minutes had passed, Peter cleared his throat. “Um, Mr. Stark?”

    The man jumped slightly, then looked at him with a smirk. “Sorry, kid. Got excited there for a sec. Let’s take this to the lab.”

    Excitement built in Peter’s throat, and they slipped down to the nondescript entrance to the workshop. Stark set his hand against the door, which flashed blue and then gold. Peter was just as flabbergasted by the lab the second time, lingering by the sci-fi door in wonder. Stark strode in, setting down the remains of the device and tossing his suit coat to the side.

    “FRIDAY, holoscreen.” The man flicked his hand towards the pile of parts. A blue mesh of light filtered across them, a copy then blinking into existence on a screen in front of them. Peter’s face split into a grin. Awesome.

    “Alright, let’s see what this little pile of crap is made of, shall we?”

    Peter peered over the worktable as the man began to work. As time stretched on, however, he began to wander about the workshop, mind drifting to the assignment MJ had given him. Beds…

    An immeasurable amount of time later, Stark muttered, “hmm.”

    “What?” Peter asked from where he’d been tinkering with the nanotech in the corner.

    Stark picked up a fragment of the device and wiggled it around as he spoke. “This is really quite crude.”

Peter came over to the man, handing him a clean scrap of fabric from the neatly folded pile by the wall. That had to be Pepper’s work. Stark took it unconsciously and attempted to clean the grime off his fingers. Peter smiled at the disheveled, but somehow genuine, preoccupation of the billionaire's demeanor. “Not super well developed, though the idea behind it is remarkable.” There was a pause, as though Stark’s thoughts had overtaken his words.