Muggings and Parties

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The evening had been slow during patrol. Only one attempted mugging, two bike thefts, and one domestic dispute that was quickly settled. Crime usually peaked during the Summer months, but tonight had been oddly quiet. Peter wasn't complaining, though. He saw plenty of action, between alien invasions, psycho villains, and basic training exercises with his team.

"Anything on the police scanner, Karen?" The teenage vigilante was perched on top of an old warehouse just a few blocks from his old apartment building.

"Nothing at the moment." His personal AI chirped, voice smooth and comforting. "May I suggest y-"

A scream cut through the air, and Peter was off. Using his heightened senses to pinpoint the screams, he could identify precisely where it was coming from. He swung three blocks down the street before making a sharp turn into a back alley.

Three younger women - who appeared to be in their mid-twenties - were cornering another woman back against a dumpster. Upon closer inspection, Peter realized the woman about to be mugged was his old boss, Miss Marks.

"Hey, what's up?" Peter dropped down in front of the girls and effortlessly webbed them to the dirty brick wall behind them. "It's you." He webbed any weapons they had to the ground; the only thing remotely threatening was a two-inch kitchen knife. Then, he shot webbing over their mouths for good measure, effectively muting their high pitched squealing. "Get it, 'cause you're up there... on the...Just, never mind."

"Thank you."

Peter spun around to face Miss Marks, surprised she was still there. Usually, the victim would run the first chance they got.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Gently, he pulled her to her feet and checked her for any possible injuries. He hadn't let the muggers get close, but it never hurt to check.

"I-I think I'm okay." She took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through her mussed hair. "Yes. I'm alright." She smiled gratefully, "thanks to you, Spider-Man."

Peter chuckled quietly. "It's no problem, ma'am. Everyone should be able to return home safely."

"Well, with you watching over us," she gestured to the buildings around them and the New York citizens they contained, "we definitely will."

Once again, Peter was grateful to be wearing a mask. Besides protecting his identity and helping him with his heightened senses, the high tech fabric also hid the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Thank you." He said sincerely. "That really means a lot. Recognition can be hard to get as a hero. We try our best... but people tend to remember the one thing you did wrong, not the hundreds of things you did right."

"That's very wise." Miss. Marks pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side. "You remind me of someone who used to work for me. Skinny, quiet... very sweet. Had good manners too."

"Um... um, uh, I don't know. I mean no, ma'am, I never worked at your restaurant."

"I never said I owned a restaurant."

If you couldn't see the smirk on her face, then you could hear it in her voice. Peter wanted to punch himself for being so stupid, mentally cursing himself for not webbing the criminals up then swinging away.

"I... please don't te-"

"I would never." Stating it as a fact, she pulled her savior into a tight hug. One, she'd always longed to give the scrappy teen that brought in most of her customers and had a heart of pure gold. "Thank you, Peter," she mumbled into his shoulder, "you saved me."

"You don't gotta thank me, Miss Marks... er, I mean, Patty."

She slung her purse higher on her shoulder, gave Peter a loving smile, and continued her trek home. "Oh, and please give Mr. Stark my thanks. I couldn't afford to renovate that shabby old bar myself, and I'm sure you put a good word in." She called over her shoulder, then turned the corner and was out of sight.

"Karen?" Peter mumbled to his AI as he jumped from building to building, making sure his old boss got home safely. "How did she know I asked dad to write her a check? He didn't leave a letter or anything, did he?"

"There was no attached note or file. Only a check for one hundred thousand dollars addressed to Miss. Patty Louise Marks."

"Huh." He made sure she entered her apartment building safely before swinging away.

Around 11:00, Peter began making his way home - swinging, and occasionally jumping from building to building. On any other night, he'd be out until at least 2:00 in the morning, but Tony had wanted him to return early. Peter hated missing or cutting patrols short; it was his duty to protect the people of Queens - and Manhattan now that he lived in the Avengers tower. But tomorrow is the start of summer vacation, so he could easily make up for lost time.

"Peter, why are you headed back so early?" Karen's confused voice came through the mask of Peter's suit.

"Dad wanted me to meet him in the common room. Don't know why, though." 

Doing an elaborate flip - one that would've been a challenge even for the best gymnast - and landing in an alleyway, he headed towards the Avengers private entrance. Friday's security system was impenetrable, but each Avenger had to scan their handprints to enter as an extra precaution.

"Usually I'd just take the elevator to my room, or climb the building and just go in through my window." Peter talked to Karen as the elevator ascended, trying to figure out for himself why his dad needed him back early. "Is it the MMO? Do you think I'm in trouble? Oh, man... I don't think I did anything wrong." He began to pace back and forth within the confined space, his mind going through the worst-case scenarios. "At least I don't remember doing anything, you know, uh bad."

"I can assure you, Peter, that you've done nothing wrong." Friday's voice broke Peter from his thoughts. Releasing a startled yelp, he instinctively jumped and clung to the metal ceiling. The AI chuckled, "I'm sorry to have scared you."

"It's okay, Fri." The vigilante let himself fall back down to the floor, landing silently on the balls of his feet. He removed his mask and played with it absentmindedly. "Do you know what dad wants?"

"I do not." She sounded amused. "But you can ask him yourself in ten seconds."

True to her word, the elevator doors opened exactly ten seconds later. Along with all the other Avengers, Tony was standing where the hall opened up into the kitchen. And they did not look happy.

"H-hi um..." Peter gulped, his heart rate going through the roof. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did I can guarantee you I didn't mean to. I don't think I did anything wrong, but if I-"

"Kid." Tony could no longer keep a straight face. He stepped forward and pulled his son into a tight hug. "You did absolutely nothing wrong."

"Wh- wait." He peeked over his dad's shoulder at his aunt and uncles - who were now laughing. "Oh come on, guys."

"Sorry, kiddo." Clint ruffled Peter's curls and teased him. "Just wanted to give you a good scare."

"Jerk." The teen stuck his tongue out at the archer in a rare display of immaturity. "What're you guys doing up so late anyway?"

"You just finished your sophomore year and aced your finals!" Steve explained, voice filled with pride. "We're not surprised, with how smart you are, but we wanted to celebrate. You deserve it."

"Aw, thanks, guys. That's super nice."

"Of course, it's super nice." Scott rolled his eyes, putting great emphasis on the word super. "It because we're superheroes. Ha, get it. Because we-"

"We get it." Sam cut him off with a hand over his mouth. "You don't gotta- ew gross! Did you just lick my hand?" He pulled his hand away as if it'd been burned then wiped the saliva off his hand using Bucky's shirt as a towel.

"Sick! You little fu-"

"Alright let's eat." Steve quickly directed everyone's attention to the food spread out on the large kitchen island. Peter and Thor - having the biggest appetites out of anyone they'd ever met - needed no more convincing and promptly dug in.

Any possible argument dissipated at the sight of Peter laughing, spaghetti sauce splattered on the front of his suit, as Thor and Bruce fought over the rights to Bucky's famous brownies.

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