Peter Parker: Intern

Chapter 2

"Hmmm... Slow night," Peter stifles a yawn, hand over his mask. He is perched on a ledge, high up on the side of a building, watching a lone car crawl past in the street below. "...Wonder if anyone would notice if I cut patrol a little short tonight," he mutters quietly.

He sits, entertaining the idea, but dismisses it after all. Peter's Spider-sense has been pinging all evening, since about thirty minutes into his usual route.

Pete decides to swing around, maybe if he can get some distance between whatever is setting him off, he can zero in on it better. Finally, the hero catches a small shift of movement in his periphery on the roof of an office building next to where he had started. Whoever or whatever it is, they seem content to just watch him, but Peter has had enough.

Under the guise of playing around, Peter forces his body to relax. He even lets out a whoop here and there as he flips through the air, allowing himself to have some fun while still keeping an eye on his pursuer.

Timing his next swing, Peter whips around the building his target is watching him from. Cutting the arc of his swing tight, he hits the side of the building close to the corner, breaking line-of-sight from the roof, and quickly scuttling to the top. As he nears the edge, he hears the crunch of a footstep, the figure looking around for where he expects to see Spider-Man neglects to look down soon enough and Peter snakes a hand over the edge.

With a firm, but not punishing, grip on the man's ankle, Peter picks him bodily from the rooftop and finds himself dangling Clint Barton over an alley.

"H.. Hey... Spider-Man... How's it hanging?!" Barton wheezes.

Clint checks his equipment, trying to hide his nervousness with the activity. The last time he was in the vigilante's presence was just after the debacle in Germany, which did not.. end.. well... Clint's eyes snap to the Spider's face when he clears his throat.

"You know..."

Spider-Man's voice is tense, but empty of emotion, giving Clint no hint of what he is thinking. The eyes on the suit narrow as they meet his own.

"The last time I saw you was right after the airport..."

"You remember..."

"When you shot me with an arrow?"

Spider-Man's stance is closed off and stiff, arms crossed as he watches Clint.

Clint just wishes he could see the guy's face. It's so hard to read someone in a onesie. Clint rolls the dice in his head and decides to take a chance. Reaching down to the large brown paper bag he's hidden in the shadows at the edge of the rooftop he holds it out in front of himself.

Grinning and trying to look at ease, Clint curses in his head every second that the Spider just stares at him incredulously.

"...Tacos?"

It was Clint.

Of course, it was Clint. Peter bet that Nat would have been a lot harder to catch in action.

...

But then again, Clint has to have been testing him, especially since he had made no moves for a weapon when he was grabbed.

As goofy as the spy acted when off the job, he is skilled. Peter knows that he could have done a lot better at hiding from him.

He has to admit it, Peter isn't actually mad. He knows he could have avoided being shot in Germany. But he was on stand-by, the tension growing across the tarmac, when he realized a lot of people where about to be hurt. So without hesitation (ok, well, maybe a little hesitation... Give a guy a break!), he leapt in front of the arrow that would have freed Captain America...