Sliding Doors ⧨ Peter Parker

3 | Stark

Y/N

_

I wasn't sure if I had actually died or not.

If I was actually dead, it would explain a lot of this. Well, not a lot. Just one thing.

It would explain why Tony Stark - sorry, not Tony Stark - the world's most famous Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist, was sitting directly in front of me.

He was reclined on the office chair, his legs crossed, and his eyes unreadable. A small gadget was pressed into his palm, and he tossed it up and down as he scanned me. He didn't say anything for a solid minute, just tossing, and staring, and tossing again.

"Who is this?" he said, glancing over at the man in the corner.

"She might have information about the boy," the man responded.

"I'm not asking about the boy, Happy, I'm asking about her."

My mind was racing. Mr. Stark wouldn't make direct eye-contact with me, which made my nerves itch with confusion. I wanted to get him to look at me at least once, or somehow earn his attention.

"y/n l/n," Happy said, who I understood to be the corner-man, "she's here for the September Foundation spot."

Please, just look at me.

"Well, did she get it?" Stark question again.

He just kept tossing, and tossing, and tossing the gadget, like a broken record stuck in the same spot. I felt like I was utterly hypnotized by it, along with the yearning for the man's attention. At this point, all I wanted was to be noticed, and I had no fear about if I got the spot or not.

"No," Happy frowned, "her application was denied."

I lied. It hurt to an extent. Half of me was disappointed that I wasn't good enough (since they hadn't even taken a look at my work), but the other half of me saw this coming from the moment I applied. I was a middle-class girl from Queens, how was I supposed to compete?

"Hmmh," the billionaire murmured, before spinning his chair to face me, "tell me what you know, then."

I watched as he tossed the gadget again, but this time it was towards the desk. It skidded along the glass table, before coming to a stop in the center (woah!). A small hatch opened at the top, and a holographic screen appeared between me and Mr. Stark.

I had never seen holo-technology up close before, it's digital rendering drawing me in with fascination. I snapped back when a video started to play, and I watched as a speeding car bolted towards a bus stuck in the middle of an intersection.

I was confused, at first, until I saw a blurry figure swoop past the screen, and stop the car before the collision happened. All I could grab from that was a vigilante in a red onesie, who was able to miraculously hold the weight of a speeding vehicle.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I've never seen this video before."

"It's not about the video, kid," Tony Stark said, "it's about the boy."

He still wouldn't look at me.

"I don't know who he is," I answered.

The man clicked his tongue against the roof of his head, shaking his head. Pointing at the woman, he gestured behind me.

"Ms. Potts, close the door," he said, before grabbing the gadget off the table, "where were you this morning, y/n?"

"The train station at 67th."

"Friday, pull up security footage from this morning," the man said spontaneously, waving his hand, "where was it...ah, 67th avenue."

"Pulling up security files."

I flinched at the voice, looking around the room. It sounded like a female AI, which was something I had also never come into contact with. In this past hour, I was already miles ahead of where I was before.

Another holographic video started to play, and Stark scrolled through the individual files. He stopped at one from two hours ago, and tapped on it, enlarging the screen.

There I was, standing on the platform, oblivious to my surroundings. It was almost embarrassing to watch as I fought my attackers back, since I clearly had no physical training whatsoever. Another minute into the video, I watched as I fell towards the tracks.

It was scary to see it happen again, but it all seemed to happen faster than I imagined it. As the train sped towards me, a blur of a figure jumped over the platform, pulling me out of danger. The footage was blurry, and our faces were almost incomprehensible, which was good in some sorts.

"Stop video," Stark said, "and match up the two videos."

"Both subjects share the same height, and physical patterns."

The man was silent for a second, scratching at the beard on his chin. He tapped at the desk, thinking, before clearing his throat.

He locked eyes with me, for a moment, before getting out of the chair. It was validating to know I had not gone unnoticed in his view, and I let out a sigh of all the pent up anxiousness I had.

"Happy, Potts, my office, now," He said, gliding towards the door.

I watched as the two adults followed after him simultaneously, which seemed to be a result of Stark's emanating power. He opened the glass door, before stopping to look at me again.

I could sense his intimidating gaze through the tinted glasses, so I shrunk back in my chair nervously.

"Congratulations," he added, "you got the spot."