#incorrectironwidow

Peter drops his head into his hands. There is no way he was getting out of this one.

Midtown High was notorious for genius-level students, mostly because it cost an arm and a leg to get in, and those who didn’t have loads of money in the bank had to jump through quite a few academic hoops to get in on scholarship. For this reason, the school was relatively lenient regarding lab accidents and mechanical fires, especially those that were made in the pursuit of knowledge. Michael Lawson had made the local paper last year for accidentally combining volatile chemicals that resulted in a improved b12 vitamin. Lucy Poisson had gotten an award from the mayor himself when she caused a fire in the school’s garage that had made progress on large sedan fuel efficiency. 

Peter was not Michael or Lucy. Peter had burned down three classrooms. Peter was in trouble.

It was completely stupid in hindsight. A mistake he wouldn’t have made in middle school, except that he had flown in this morning at 4am after being awake for 48 hours in Mexico City, helping the Avengers fight a genetically engineered el chupacabra. Ned had promised to wake him up at a key point in his chemistry project, only he had gotten distracted by angry birds (seriously, who still played angry birds?) and Peter had only woken up with the sound of the fire alarm. 

And now he was here, in the principal’s office. They were about to call Aunt May, and he was sure he was going to be expelled.

But as the principal picks up the phone to dial, Peter’s spider senses pick up on a sharp sound and a low whispering hum of a voice that simultaneously make him perk up and shrink down further in his seat. The principal’s not going to know what hit him.

Unfortunately, Peter doesn’t know what’s going to hit him either.

“Sir, you can’t go in there! Sir, sir - wait, you’re not… are you-?”

And so it begins.

After a sharp rap on the door, two legends saunter into the room and arrange themselves in the seats next to Peter. He doesn’t look up, even as the principal’s sharp remarks turn into sputtering awe.

Tony Stark leans back in his chair, completely at ease, though his dark eyes tell a different story. Natasha Romanoff sits up straight, a perfectly cordial smile on her lips, but Peter recognizes the set of her shoulders as a pre-battle stance. If he hadn’t still been so in awe of them, even after fourteen months of interactions, he’d probably be embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” the principal is apologizing, “but I can’t discuss Peter’s actions unless it’s with a parent or a guardian.”

Natasha leans forward. “I’m afraid the legal team of the Avengers disagrees. You see, Peter Parker is a special case.” Tony, furthering Peter’s belief that Natasha and he are connected by some weird telepathy, lays a small folder on the table and slides it across to the principle. It is the first time in a long time that Peter has seen Tony even handle paper. “Mr. Parker is designated as a consulting Avenger.”

The principle’s mouth snaps open, and the sputtering begins again. “How - who - what?”

“Any other information regarding Mr. Parker’s status is classified,” Natasha interrupts, her words razor-sharp. “The only thing you need to know is that we have the authority to discuss his actions on his behalf.”

Tony crosses his legs, and now Peter is beginning to understand their game. “Principal Lane,” he says, his words like butter, “we understand that Peter has damaged some of your property. We will happily pay for the reconstruction - for better equipment too - God knows as a school, you probably need the upgrade.” He smirks, and Peter can see his eyes glint under his Fendi sunglasses. 

“But Mr. Parker will stay,” Natasha adds cooly, absently running a finger along the edge of the desk. Peter immediately imagines all the things that finger could potentially do to a man, which he is sure was the plan as he watches his principal turn as white as a sheet. Tony audibly swallows next to him, loosening his tie, and Peter does not even want to think what that is about. 

“Well?” Tony manages, his smirk turning him a real smile. “C’mon, the kid’s a genius. Easy MIT shoe-in; I’ve guaranteed it myself. That’s gotta look good on your records, huh? What do you say?”

The principal looks like he is about to pass out, but instead he just nods, and Peter barely holds in a whoop for joy. He doesn’t care how many laps Nat is going to make him run. He doesn’t care that he’s probably going to be banned from the lab; he knows Daisy will sneak him in anyways. 

Tony and Natasha stand at the same time, leaving Peter to scramble up as well. Natasha plucks her own sunglasses from where they hang on Tony’s blazer pocket, slipping them on as she gestures for Peter to follow them. “We’ll be taking Mr. Parker for the rest of the day,” she tells the principal, who is still nodding aimlessly. Peter feels for him, honestly. He knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of the Black Widow’s interrogation tactics. “We’ll be watching,” she adds, exiting the room with Tony’s hand at her back. Tony keeps a guiding hand on Peter’s shoulder too, as he shudders at Natasha’s ominous warning, vowing to stay on her good side.

“Honey,” Tony is murmuring, whispering the rest into Natasha’s ear. Peter’s sure he wants no part of that. 

He’s so distracted with what he just witnessed that he forgets that it’s lunch hour.

By the time they make it to the car, Peter’s reputation as a shy, quiet nerd has been shattered into a million pieces. He doesn’t have a long time to contemplate it though; when he climbs into the back of Tony’s Mercedes, Natasha at the wheel, he’s confronted with a whole different set of emotions. 

Tony leans back, asking where Peter wants to get lunch. He says that he made Natasha promise to lay down his punishment, with May’s help, after lunch. Natasha asks how he feels, if he’s okay, and Peter watches Tony take his girlfriend’s hand in his, pressing a light kiss to her palm before clasping it in his. 

Peter sinks into the seat, a glow of contentment swallowing him as he replies to their inquiries. He loves May, he does - no one will ever replace her. Ever.

“We’re going to Germany.” Tony laughs when he tells him that he can’t go because of homework. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Peter sighs, knowing this is his chance for his mom to finally take him seriously. There’s a 98% chance she’ll kill him, but Peter thinks Tony might get the brunt of her rage in this particular case, so this might be his best chance. Tony and his mom might be friends, but no one recruits her child into a war. So he considers Tony’s words before coming to a conclusion. “Okay, but I need to know one thing.”

“What’s that, kid?”

“Is, uh… is the Black Widow on your side?”

-