Peter, Steve
Aug. 19th, 2012 12:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aa_natashaHe seems like a good kid. Earnest. Well-meaning. /Nice/.
This is no kind of job for a good kid.
=NYC= Midtown - NYC
Perhaps one of the busiest Manhattan neighborhoods, the midtown area is home to many a tourist attraction that tends to fill its streets with out-of-towners. Times Square is the hub of greatest activity, the bright lights marking the heart of the city's theatre district. Stark Tower is usually the most eye-catching sight, however, but it's overlarge labeling is looking a little worse for wear since the recent attack. Shield HQ is certainly plainer.
(Exits : [S]tark [T]ower, [S]hield [H]Q, [U]pper [W]est [S]ide, [U]pper [E]ast [S]ide, [C]entral [P]ark, [G]reenwich [V]illage, [J]oe the [A]rt of [C]offee, and [S]hawarma [P]alace )
It's your average Saturday night for one Peter Parker. And since his girlfriend wants nothing to do with him (they're a little shaky right now, okay?), he's swinging the streets of New York City, as he usually does. A foiled attempt at a liquor store robbery later, Peter leaves the would-be robber trussed up and waiting outside the precinct on 43rd St, complete with video footage webbed to the criminal.
Moments later, Peter swings his way up above all the noise of the busy weekend streets of his city, landing easily on one of the silver birds that stick out over the city at the edge of the Chrysler building. The bug eyes of his mask briefly pass over the neon advertisement of Stark Enterprises, and then the SHIELD HQ as the spandex-clad do-gooder simply watches and listens to his city for a minute.
If Natasha Romanov is less comfortable so far above the safety of the ground with no web of her own to catch her despite her nom de guerre, it does not show. She lounges, such as it is possible, not atop the eagle Peter's settled on, but on the next. When his attention wanders her way, she gives him a lazy wave.
There's a slight hesitation and hitch in the one-handed wave he gives back to Natasha as he spots her louging about idly on her own bird's eye view of the city, and Peter's mask quirks slightly as he looks at her for a long moment. "So," he starts casually, just a little louder to be heard over the rushing wind at this kind of altitude, "do you come here often?" It /sounds/ like a pick-up line, though Natasha will be able to spot the fact that his mouth covers up the slight surprise.
"I like the view," Natasha answers, deadpan. The wind whips through the distance between them, making conversation a bit difficult. After a moment Natasha quirks her head toward a window and lifts her brows before stirring to head inside.
Peter looks sideways at the indicated window, and his head bobs just slightly in return. He gestures for her to lead the way before joining her inside. However, whereas she may remain standing on the floor, he instead climbs the wall on his way through the window and turns to face her from a spider's perspective. Plus, it keeps him at a slight bit of a distance should she try any funny stuff. You could say that he's just a little paranoid after Coulson's appearance at the school the other day, no matter how polite the Agent was. "Sooo..." he says and trails off, waiting. Time for your pitch, Natasha. Maybe it's the sudden bout of nerves that prevents him from smarting off just yet.
"I hear you want to join our little team," Natasha says, tucking her arms in a fold over her chest as she settles her weight evenly and tilts her head to watch him. "Make the double life a little more official."
"Hey, hold on a second, lady," Peter says, holding a hand in a stop motion as he takes one hand off the wall. "Let's get something straight, here. /You/ guys came looking for /me/. Your friend," and he hooks a thumb back in the direction of the SHIELD HQ building, "is the one that showed up out of the blue to talk to me." The spider shifts slightly on the wall, rocking back on his heels and essentially crouches directly on the wall as a moment of uncomfortable silence passes. "That's not to say I'm not interested. I saw what you guys did with that alien invasion-- and maybe I think I might be able to help next time. Please tell me there's not another next time right now, is there??"
"As I said," Natasha answers when Peter finishes with his straightening. She tilts her head slightly, looking him up and then back down before she quirks one corner of her lips just slightly upward. "There aren't any Chitauri in New York at present," she says. "But there are always things that need doing."
"Too bad I can't say the same thing of their guns," Peter quips back in response to Natasha's confirmation on the lack of alien activity. "Those things show up in the damndest of places." As she studies him, he studies her too, though it's hard to tell behind that bug-eyed mask he wears. "Okay. So, how does this whole thing even work?"
Natasha's eyes spark interest at that, and for a moment she regards Peter with a sharper study before answering a dry, "I'll let you know when I do." It's a joke. Maybe. She turns, indicating the door with a jerk of her head. "I'll show you the clubhouse," she says. "Introduce you to the gang."
Peter's mask turns towards the door indicated by Natasha, then back to the female agent, and then back outside to the roof of the Chrysler building and back again. "Uh, no offense," he starts, "but I don't tend to just walk around all over the place. Part of my charm, you know. Plus, I think if I were seen walking through doors like everyone else, they'd take away my web-slinging card." And now he drops off the wall easily, landing on the floor and gesturing with a thumb towards the window, "I could meet you there if you tell me where we're going? Or, you could do a ride along. I promise I won't drop you."
Natasha turns to give Peter an amused look over her shoulder. After a moment she says, "Follow me," and disappears down the hall and through a door. She'll leave the means of following up to him.
Well. That settles that. She takes the doors, and he'll take the window. Which means that he's easily waiting for her to show up when she exits the building, balanced on the ledge of one of the adjacent buildings, ready to follow a car, or whatever she took to get here. Unless she takes the subway, in which case he's so screwed.
Natasha isn't quite that mean. She walks at a brisk New Yorker pace that Peter probably finds more frustrating to follow than guessing on a subway route. Compared to web slinging, it's just /slow/. Her line is nearly straight, save for a quick left on 70th that takes her to the edge of Central Park. Once there, she stops in front of an impressive three-story stone building lined with a wrought-iron fence, and waits.
Frustrating? Following someone who's walking when you can just web-sling all over NYC? Noooooo. "Well," Peter says as he lands easily next to Natasha, or at least close to her if not /next/ to her, as she stops in front of the wrought-iron fence, "Now I know where you got those top notch legs if you walk everywhere in this city." The guy in the spandex turns to look up at the mansion, and then back to Natasha, "Though, I could have just as easily followed a cab and spared you the walk. Or a car. So, what is this place? Secret clubhouse? If so, you might want to work on something a little less-- 18th century."
Natasha turns to direct an arch look at Peter over her shoulder, then turns forward again. A card has appeared in her hand, and she uses it to coax the door open. "Walking is excellent exercise," she replies on a murmur before letting her tone run dry as she pushes the door open and waves Peter in with a broad gesture. "You'll have to speak to Tony Stark about that one, I'm afraid."
Peter takes the invitation as the gates are opened and he is ushered onto the grounds. As he walks in through the front door, he looks up and around at the spacious and modern decor of the interior of the mansion from behind his mask, and just whistles lowly in both surprise and admiration. "Okay, I take it back. Obviously, the exterior is meant to be a disguise to hide this place as Hogwarts. Though I'm surprised there's not more kids waiting out there, clamboring for Dumbledore to make an appearance with the sorting hat to put them into their houses."
"We have top of the line security," Natasha says, as if Peter had not commented in the least. She leads the way inside, letting the door swing closed behind them. "Top of top of the line, in fact. Training facilities, weapons on hand, an excellent bar which I won't pretend you're too young to use, and our own AI system." She lifts her voice slightly. "Jarvis, say hello to Spiderman."
Polite as ever, Jarvis offers, "Welcome to the Avengers Mansion, sir."
Natasha gives the masked teen another glance over her shoulder, then leads him into the great room that serves as kitchen, dining, and entertainment.
Which is where Steve is just coming out of. He has a plate with a rather extra-large sandwich on top which he is just now lifting as he walks to take a large bite of. He comes up a bit short when his path brings him to Natasha and -- Spider-Man. "Um," he says, and swallows. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi totally-not-creepy-disembodied-voice guy," Peter responds in slightly startled quip to Jarvis's welcome, even as he continues to look around as Natasha plays tour guide through the front section of the mansion, even glancing back at the front door as it closes with some finality behind him. "Say, it occurs to me suddenly that this might be the perfect ploy by the bad guys to lure me here and trap me inside." He looks back to Natasha, and a suddenly appearing Captain America. Sans costume, quite unlike himself. The spandex'd teen comes to a stop, looking /up/ at the big time hero and saying brightly, "Hi."
Natasha doesn't respond, just gives Peter a dry, dry look and crosses into the kitchen. "New guy," she tells Steve with a lift of her chin. "You're probably heard of him." She swirls toward the refrigerator and tugs it open before adding to Peter, "You've probably heard of /him/."
"Yeah, I've seen you in the papers," Steve says, considering Peter. His gaze flits back to Natasha, a little unsure. "New guy?"
Peter looks between Steve and Natasha, at a loss of words for a few moments before looking back to Captain America. "Apparently, SHIELD wanted to partner with the Amazing Spider-Man," he responds to Steve, sounding both amused and a touch disturbed at the bleed into his personal life. "The older guy in the suit showed up on my doorstep the other day-- asked me if I could come out to play."
"Fury thinks we might need some more hands," Natasha answers from the kitchen, voice lifted a touch to carry. "Given recent events." She pauses to rummage for a glass, then adds, "He's talking about Coulson." 'Older'.
"Oh." Polite even when baffled, Steve sets down his plate on the counter and steps forward to offer his hand. "All right, then. Steve Rogers."
Peter looks at the offered hand in some surprise, and now /totally/ at a loss for words. The bug eyes of the mask look over at the kitchen and to Natasha, then back to Steve, and the boy underneath the mask flushes, even though the other two in the room can't see it as he takes the hand and shakes it, "Uh. Spider-Man. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers. You know-- like, face to face." Oh, /yeah/. There is a shift of total discomfort in Spider-Man's footing, because if his self-introduction sounded to them as stupid as it sounded to him in his head-- yeah. His shoulders slump slightly in abject misery, and his eyes drift partially away from meeting Cap's gaze.
"Spider-Man," Natasha repeats, voice low as she fills her glass (with water, tonight) and then lifts it for a long swallow before she adds, sardonically, "Face to mask."
"Close enough," Steve says with a faint, wry smile. He politely fails to notice any awkwardness on Peter's part, grown familiar if not comfortable with his celebrity over the years.
Bolstered a little bit by Steve's acceptance of his mask, Peter looks around the kitchen slightly, and then over at Natasha and her mocking of his mask. He lifts a hand slightly, pointing around the room, "Does this creepy AI guy follow us everywhere in here? And does he have cameras?"
"Yup," Natasha says. She leans back into the counter, twirling the glass between her fingers. "Jarvis is completely integrated."
"He's not creepy," Steve says in gentle censure. "That's not a polite thing to say. Jarvis is very helpful."
"Helpful? You mean, like Big Brother helpful?" Peter interjects, his mouth running away with him slightly as he looks around the room for any cameras, or for any signs of Jarvis. "Hey, Jarvis?"
Jarvis responds, "Yes, sir?"
"Like Tony Stark's personal AI helpful," Natasha answers, pushing off from the counter and leaving her glass behind. "Our ID cards have a link to him too, though it's a bit more limited. I'll talk to Stark about getting you one." She tilts her head, glancing toward Steve. "I expect you could move in if you wanted. Think about it."
"Like what?" Steve asks to Peter's reference.
"George Orwell, 1984. Wrote a book about society where the government was telling people how to run their lives. Big Brother is watching, all that stuff," Peter responds, slightly distracted before looking back at Natasha, "Wait. Tony Stark's /personal/ AI?" He taps a finger to the lips of his mask in consideration at all of the possibilities that such a thing could offer him, but settles on a different one instead. "Hey, Jarvis. Not to be rude, but you think you could turn off the video and audio feeds to the kitchen for just a minute? Please? I'll get you your favorite eBook for Christmas."
"Not necessary, sir. I am currently up to date with every eBook published," Jarvis responds smoothly in his sleek AI voice. "Turning off monitoring feeds now. They will automatically re-activate in 300 seconds, sir."
"Da," Natasha says, inclining her head before glancing to Steve to add, "Shorthand for 'the government spies on you. It's a good book. You should put it in your lineup." He's got a lineup, right?
"Okay," Steve says amiably enough. "Bruce got me some Kurt Vonnegut books. I'm reading Slaughterhouse-Five." He says it all in that mildly questioning way of someone sharing a brand new book title you may not have heard of. His brows twitch as Peter asks Jarvis to switch off.
"A book about a military man out of time, huh?" Peter says back at Steve, glancing his way for a moment. And then he looks back to Natasha, putting a thumb in Steve's direction, even as he speaks directly to Natasha. "What does he know about me? Does he know what you and your friend know?"
"He's standing right there," Natasha draws, voice dry and low. "Ask him."
"I am," Steve agrees mildly.
Peter almost facepalms, but turns back to look up at Steve, "Okay. Fine. Do you know who I am?" He thumbs at Natasha this time, "Because she does. So does her friend."
Natasha lifts her brows in a mild expression. "Maybe I just know which shiny birds are your favorite," she says.
"No," Steve tells Peter simply. "I know you're Spider-Man. I've read about you in the papers and such. But I don't know anything about who you are beyond that."
Those bug eyes turn and look over Natasha skeptically before turning back to Steve. There's a moment of tension as his shoulders tighten and he steels himself just slightly before finally blowing out a breath. Relaxing one of his hands, he lifts it up and grabs the bottom of his mask, slowly pulling it up off of his face. He leaves it bunched just over his forehead, so it only reveals his face and not the entirety of his head. It is the face of a much, much younger man, though those hazel eyes are solemn and thoughtful for the moment. There's a nervous twitch as he looks around the room for just a second on reflex before bringing his eyes back to meet Steve's. And this time, it's he who offers his hand. "Peter," he says quietly. Hesitantly. That's all he offers, though.
Almost, Natasha smiles. It's a bare lift of the corners of her lips, a very slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes. "Top of the line security," she reminds as Peter glances around. She lifts her glass and murmurs "Za vstrechu," before tipping it back for a final swallow and sliding it to the counter.
Steve extends his hand to clasp Peter's a second time, respectful and solemn. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Peter," he says sincerely.
"The same for you, sir," Peter responds. After the handshake is done, he reaches up and pulls the mask down again to cover his face once more, and as his face is covered again, that bout of nerves seems to just flow from him to leave him a little more relaxed. Then his mask cocks sideways at Natasha, "Don't think I caught your name, though. Or are you just the fisherwoman, sent to reel people in after the bait's been set?"
"That's me," Natasha answers, sliding from the kitchen on silent footsteps. "Coulson baits the hook." She does smile then, darkly. "I reel them in and filet them." She gives Steve a tip of her head, a quirk of her brows, and says, "Steve or Jarvis can see you out. I'll contact you about a card." And then she's slipping away toward the stairs without so much as a 'Natasha Romanov' for Peter's question.
Steve watches her go with a muted sort of humor. "That's Natasha," he tells Peter. "She's very -- competent." Understatement of the Year.
Peter looks distinctly uncomfortable for just a moment when Natasha flashes that dark smile in his direction. "Competent? I would have said 'friendly'. Or maybe even 'scary'," he quips to Steve once Natasha is out of the room. Hopefully out of earshot. "I think I'd wager her on being the shark at the end of the fishing line, rather than the fisherman. Yikes."
"I don't think Natasha would end up caught in a fishing metaphor," Steve says with a wry slip of a smile. "I can show you out, if you like."
"Ha. 'Caught'. Not bad there, Cap," Peter says underneath the mask, finger-gun pointing at Steve before pulling both triggers. He's definitely more comfortable being a smartass while under the mask. Maybe it's some sort of psychosis. 'Have mask, will snark'. "Yeah, sure. At least until she drops in to leave me a card of my own. Hopefully I remember to use the doors. Hate to find out what those top of the top of the line security measures really do, huh?"
"Well, once you have a card, you won't have to worry about the security measures," Steve says reasonably. He abandons his sandwich for the time being to lead Peter back out through the Great Room and towards the foyer. "It's not very complicated."
"I hate to disagree," Peter says amicably as he's lead back out towards the front doors again, gesturing at the massive mansion, "but it's extremely complicated." He glances sideways at Steve, even though the larger man can't see the grin behind his mask, "You have a fully functional AI that is omnipresent, that works with technology no larger than your typical credit card. Just don't try and buy your next fast food meal with your Avengers card. I'm not sure how Jarvis will interface with a swipe machine."
"Oh," Steve says, coming to the front door. "I just meant that opening the door with the card is easy." Swipe swipe? Maybe it just SENSES PROXIMITY and unlocks doors. That'd be cool. "In any event, it was very nice to meet you -- Spider-Man."
Yeah. That's going to be a little weird, isn't it? "Same here." As the door's opened, he takes a step outside, still feeling weird just walking everywhere like he hasn't done in months now. "So-- I guess I'll be seeing you soon." He lifts one hand, giving Steve a little two-fingered salute and lifts his other arm, shooting off a strand of webbing. As soon as it attaches itself to the nearest spot, Peter turns and launches himself up and into the sky.
This is no kind of job for a good kid.
=NYC= Midtown - NYC
Perhaps one of the busiest Manhattan neighborhoods, the midtown area is home to many a tourist attraction that tends to fill its streets with out-of-towners. Times Square is the hub of greatest activity, the bright lights marking the heart of the city's theatre district. Stark Tower is usually the most eye-catching sight, however, but it's overlarge labeling is looking a little worse for wear since the recent attack. Shield HQ is certainly plainer.
(Exits : [S]tark [T]ower, [S]hield [H]Q, [U]pper [W]est [S]ide, [U]pper [E]ast [S]ide, [C]entral [P]ark, [G]reenwich [V]illage, [J]oe the [A]rt of [C]offee, and [S]hawarma [P]alace )
It's your average Saturday night for one Peter Parker. And since his girlfriend wants nothing to do with him (they're a little shaky right now, okay?), he's swinging the streets of New York City, as he usually does. A foiled attempt at a liquor store robbery later, Peter leaves the would-be robber trussed up and waiting outside the precinct on 43rd St, complete with video footage webbed to the criminal.
Moments later, Peter swings his way up above all the noise of the busy weekend streets of his city, landing easily on one of the silver birds that stick out over the city at the edge of the Chrysler building. The bug eyes of his mask briefly pass over the neon advertisement of Stark Enterprises, and then the SHIELD HQ as the spandex-clad do-gooder simply watches and listens to his city for a minute.
If Natasha Romanov is less comfortable so far above the safety of the ground with no web of her own to catch her despite her nom de guerre, it does not show. She lounges, such as it is possible, not atop the eagle Peter's settled on, but on the next. When his attention wanders her way, she gives him a lazy wave.
There's a slight hesitation and hitch in the one-handed wave he gives back to Natasha as he spots her louging about idly on her own bird's eye view of the city, and Peter's mask quirks slightly as he looks at her for a long moment. "So," he starts casually, just a little louder to be heard over the rushing wind at this kind of altitude, "do you come here often?" It /sounds/ like a pick-up line, though Natasha will be able to spot the fact that his mouth covers up the slight surprise.
"I like the view," Natasha answers, deadpan. The wind whips through the distance between them, making conversation a bit difficult. After a moment Natasha quirks her head toward a window and lifts her brows before stirring to head inside.
Peter looks sideways at the indicated window, and his head bobs just slightly in return. He gestures for her to lead the way before joining her inside. However, whereas she may remain standing on the floor, he instead climbs the wall on his way through the window and turns to face her from a spider's perspective. Plus, it keeps him at a slight bit of a distance should she try any funny stuff. You could say that he's just a little paranoid after Coulson's appearance at the school the other day, no matter how polite the Agent was. "Sooo..." he says and trails off, waiting. Time for your pitch, Natasha. Maybe it's the sudden bout of nerves that prevents him from smarting off just yet.
"I hear you want to join our little team," Natasha says, tucking her arms in a fold over her chest as she settles her weight evenly and tilts her head to watch him. "Make the double life a little more official."
"Hey, hold on a second, lady," Peter says, holding a hand in a stop motion as he takes one hand off the wall. "Let's get something straight, here. /You/ guys came looking for /me/. Your friend," and he hooks a thumb back in the direction of the SHIELD HQ building, "is the one that showed up out of the blue to talk to me." The spider shifts slightly on the wall, rocking back on his heels and essentially crouches directly on the wall as a moment of uncomfortable silence passes. "That's not to say I'm not interested. I saw what you guys did with that alien invasion-- and maybe I think I might be able to help next time. Please tell me there's not another next time right now, is there??"
"As I said," Natasha answers when Peter finishes with his straightening. She tilts her head slightly, looking him up and then back down before she quirks one corner of her lips just slightly upward. "There aren't any Chitauri in New York at present," she says. "But there are always things that need doing."
"Too bad I can't say the same thing of their guns," Peter quips back in response to Natasha's confirmation on the lack of alien activity. "Those things show up in the damndest of places." As she studies him, he studies her too, though it's hard to tell behind that bug-eyed mask he wears. "Okay. So, how does this whole thing even work?"
Natasha's eyes spark interest at that, and for a moment she regards Peter with a sharper study before answering a dry, "I'll let you know when I do." It's a joke. Maybe. She turns, indicating the door with a jerk of her head. "I'll show you the clubhouse," she says. "Introduce you to the gang."
Peter's mask turns towards the door indicated by Natasha, then back to the female agent, and then back outside to the roof of the Chrysler building and back again. "Uh, no offense," he starts, "but I don't tend to just walk around all over the place. Part of my charm, you know. Plus, I think if I were seen walking through doors like everyone else, they'd take away my web-slinging card." And now he drops off the wall easily, landing on the floor and gesturing with a thumb towards the window, "I could meet you there if you tell me where we're going? Or, you could do a ride along. I promise I won't drop you."
Natasha turns to give Peter an amused look over her shoulder. After a moment she says, "Follow me," and disappears down the hall and through a door. She'll leave the means of following up to him.
Well. That settles that. She takes the doors, and he'll take the window. Which means that he's easily waiting for her to show up when she exits the building, balanced on the ledge of one of the adjacent buildings, ready to follow a car, or whatever she took to get here. Unless she takes the subway, in which case he's so screwed.
Natasha isn't quite that mean. She walks at a brisk New Yorker pace that Peter probably finds more frustrating to follow than guessing on a subway route. Compared to web slinging, it's just /slow/. Her line is nearly straight, save for a quick left on 70th that takes her to the edge of Central Park. Once there, she stops in front of an impressive three-story stone building lined with a wrought-iron fence, and waits.
Frustrating? Following someone who's walking when you can just web-sling all over NYC? Noooooo. "Well," Peter says as he lands easily next to Natasha, or at least close to her if not /next/ to her, as she stops in front of the wrought-iron fence, "Now I know where you got those top notch legs if you walk everywhere in this city." The guy in the spandex turns to look up at the mansion, and then back to Natasha, "Though, I could have just as easily followed a cab and spared you the walk. Or a car. So, what is this place? Secret clubhouse? If so, you might want to work on something a little less-- 18th century."
Natasha turns to direct an arch look at Peter over her shoulder, then turns forward again. A card has appeared in her hand, and she uses it to coax the door open. "Walking is excellent exercise," she replies on a murmur before letting her tone run dry as she pushes the door open and waves Peter in with a broad gesture. "You'll have to speak to Tony Stark about that one, I'm afraid."
Peter takes the invitation as the gates are opened and he is ushered onto the grounds. As he walks in through the front door, he looks up and around at the spacious and modern decor of the interior of the mansion from behind his mask, and just whistles lowly in both surprise and admiration. "Okay, I take it back. Obviously, the exterior is meant to be a disguise to hide this place as Hogwarts. Though I'm surprised there's not more kids waiting out there, clamboring for Dumbledore to make an appearance with the sorting hat to put them into their houses."
"We have top of the line security," Natasha says, as if Peter had not commented in the least. She leads the way inside, letting the door swing closed behind them. "Top of top of the line, in fact. Training facilities, weapons on hand, an excellent bar which I won't pretend you're too young to use, and our own AI system." She lifts her voice slightly. "Jarvis, say hello to Spiderman."
Polite as ever, Jarvis offers, "Welcome to the Avengers Mansion, sir."
Natasha gives the masked teen another glance over her shoulder, then leads him into the great room that serves as kitchen, dining, and entertainment.
Which is where Steve is just coming out of. He has a plate with a rather extra-large sandwich on top which he is just now lifting as he walks to take a large bite of. He comes up a bit short when his path brings him to Natasha and -- Spider-Man. "Um," he says, and swallows. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi totally-not-creepy-disembodied-voice guy," Peter responds in slightly startled quip to Jarvis's welcome, even as he continues to look around as Natasha plays tour guide through the front section of the mansion, even glancing back at the front door as it closes with some finality behind him. "Say, it occurs to me suddenly that this might be the perfect ploy by the bad guys to lure me here and trap me inside." He looks back to Natasha, and a suddenly appearing Captain America. Sans costume, quite unlike himself. The spandex'd teen comes to a stop, looking /up/ at the big time hero and saying brightly, "Hi."
Natasha doesn't respond, just gives Peter a dry, dry look and crosses into the kitchen. "New guy," she tells Steve with a lift of her chin. "You're probably heard of him." She swirls toward the refrigerator and tugs it open before adding to Peter, "You've probably heard of /him/."
"Yeah, I've seen you in the papers," Steve says, considering Peter. His gaze flits back to Natasha, a little unsure. "New guy?"
Peter looks between Steve and Natasha, at a loss of words for a few moments before looking back to Captain America. "Apparently, SHIELD wanted to partner with the Amazing Spider-Man," he responds to Steve, sounding both amused and a touch disturbed at the bleed into his personal life. "The older guy in the suit showed up on my doorstep the other day-- asked me if I could come out to play."
"Fury thinks we might need some more hands," Natasha answers from the kitchen, voice lifted a touch to carry. "Given recent events." She pauses to rummage for a glass, then adds, "He's talking about Coulson." 'Older'.
"Oh." Polite even when baffled, Steve sets down his plate on the counter and steps forward to offer his hand. "All right, then. Steve Rogers."
Peter looks at the offered hand in some surprise, and now /totally/ at a loss for words. The bug eyes of the mask look over at the kitchen and to Natasha, then back to Steve, and the boy underneath the mask flushes, even though the other two in the room can't see it as he takes the hand and shakes it, "Uh. Spider-Man. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers. You know-- like, face to face." Oh, /yeah/. There is a shift of total discomfort in Spider-Man's footing, because if his self-introduction sounded to them as stupid as it sounded to him in his head-- yeah. His shoulders slump slightly in abject misery, and his eyes drift partially away from meeting Cap's gaze.
"Spider-Man," Natasha repeats, voice low as she fills her glass (with water, tonight) and then lifts it for a long swallow before she adds, sardonically, "Face to mask."
"Close enough," Steve says with a faint, wry smile. He politely fails to notice any awkwardness on Peter's part, grown familiar if not comfortable with his celebrity over the years.
Bolstered a little bit by Steve's acceptance of his mask, Peter looks around the kitchen slightly, and then over at Natasha and her mocking of his mask. He lifts a hand slightly, pointing around the room, "Does this creepy AI guy follow us everywhere in here? And does he have cameras?"
"Yup," Natasha says. She leans back into the counter, twirling the glass between her fingers. "Jarvis is completely integrated."
"He's not creepy," Steve says in gentle censure. "That's not a polite thing to say. Jarvis is very helpful."
"Helpful? You mean, like Big Brother helpful?" Peter interjects, his mouth running away with him slightly as he looks around the room for any cameras, or for any signs of Jarvis. "Hey, Jarvis?"
Jarvis responds, "Yes, sir?"
"Like Tony Stark's personal AI helpful," Natasha answers, pushing off from the counter and leaving her glass behind. "Our ID cards have a link to him too, though it's a bit more limited. I'll talk to Stark about getting you one." She tilts her head, glancing toward Steve. "I expect you could move in if you wanted. Think about it."
"Like what?" Steve asks to Peter's reference.
"George Orwell, 1984. Wrote a book about society where the government was telling people how to run their lives. Big Brother is watching, all that stuff," Peter responds, slightly distracted before looking back at Natasha, "Wait. Tony Stark's /personal/ AI?" He taps a finger to the lips of his mask in consideration at all of the possibilities that such a thing could offer him, but settles on a different one instead. "Hey, Jarvis. Not to be rude, but you think you could turn off the video and audio feeds to the kitchen for just a minute? Please? I'll get you your favorite eBook for Christmas."
"Not necessary, sir. I am currently up to date with every eBook published," Jarvis responds smoothly in his sleek AI voice. "Turning off monitoring feeds now. They will automatically re-activate in 300 seconds, sir."
"Da," Natasha says, inclining her head before glancing to Steve to add, "Shorthand for 'the government spies on you. It's a good book. You should put it in your lineup." He's got a lineup, right?
"Okay," Steve says amiably enough. "Bruce got me some Kurt Vonnegut books. I'm reading Slaughterhouse-Five." He says it all in that mildly questioning way of someone sharing a brand new book title you may not have heard of. His brows twitch as Peter asks Jarvis to switch off.
"A book about a military man out of time, huh?" Peter says back at Steve, glancing his way for a moment. And then he looks back to Natasha, putting a thumb in Steve's direction, even as he speaks directly to Natasha. "What does he know about me? Does he know what you and your friend know?"
"He's standing right there," Natasha draws, voice dry and low. "Ask him."
"I am," Steve agrees mildly.
Peter almost facepalms, but turns back to look up at Steve, "Okay. Fine. Do you know who I am?" He thumbs at Natasha this time, "Because she does. So does her friend."
Natasha lifts her brows in a mild expression. "Maybe I just know which shiny birds are your favorite," she says.
"No," Steve tells Peter simply. "I know you're Spider-Man. I've read about you in the papers and such. But I don't know anything about who you are beyond that."
Those bug eyes turn and look over Natasha skeptically before turning back to Steve. There's a moment of tension as his shoulders tighten and he steels himself just slightly before finally blowing out a breath. Relaxing one of his hands, he lifts it up and grabs the bottom of his mask, slowly pulling it up off of his face. He leaves it bunched just over his forehead, so it only reveals his face and not the entirety of his head. It is the face of a much, much younger man, though those hazel eyes are solemn and thoughtful for the moment. There's a nervous twitch as he looks around the room for just a second on reflex before bringing his eyes back to meet Steve's. And this time, it's he who offers his hand. "Peter," he says quietly. Hesitantly. That's all he offers, though.
Almost, Natasha smiles. It's a bare lift of the corners of her lips, a very slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes. "Top of the line security," she reminds as Peter glances around. She lifts her glass and murmurs "Za vstrechu," before tipping it back for a final swallow and sliding it to the counter.
Steve extends his hand to clasp Peter's a second time, respectful and solemn. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Peter," he says sincerely.
"The same for you, sir," Peter responds. After the handshake is done, he reaches up and pulls the mask down again to cover his face once more, and as his face is covered again, that bout of nerves seems to just flow from him to leave him a little more relaxed. Then his mask cocks sideways at Natasha, "Don't think I caught your name, though. Or are you just the fisherwoman, sent to reel people in after the bait's been set?"
"That's me," Natasha answers, sliding from the kitchen on silent footsteps. "Coulson baits the hook." She does smile then, darkly. "I reel them in and filet them." She gives Steve a tip of her head, a quirk of her brows, and says, "Steve or Jarvis can see you out. I'll contact you about a card." And then she's slipping away toward the stairs without so much as a 'Natasha Romanov' for Peter's question.
Steve watches her go with a muted sort of humor. "That's Natasha," he tells Peter. "She's very -- competent." Understatement of the Year.
Peter looks distinctly uncomfortable for just a moment when Natasha flashes that dark smile in his direction. "Competent? I would have said 'friendly'. Or maybe even 'scary'," he quips to Steve once Natasha is out of the room. Hopefully out of earshot. "I think I'd wager her on being the shark at the end of the fishing line, rather than the fisherman. Yikes."
"I don't think Natasha would end up caught in a fishing metaphor," Steve says with a wry slip of a smile. "I can show you out, if you like."
"Ha. 'Caught'. Not bad there, Cap," Peter says underneath the mask, finger-gun pointing at Steve before pulling both triggers. He's definitely more comfortable being a smartass while under the mask. Maybe it's some sort of psychosis. 'Have mask, will snark'. "Yeah, sure. At least until she drops in to leave me a card of my own. Hopefully I remember to use the doors. Hate to find out what those top of the top of the line security measures really do, huh?"
"Well, once you have a card, you won't have to worry about the security measures," Steve says reasonably. He abandons his sandwich for the time being to lead Peter back out through the Great Room and towards the foyer. "It's not very complicated."
"I hate to disagree," Peter says amicably as he's lead back out towards the front doors again, gesturing at the massive mansion, "but it's extremely complicated." He glances sideways at Steve, even though the larger man can't see the grin behind his mask, "You have a fully functional AI that is omnipresent, that works with technology no larger than your typical credit card. Just don't try and buy your next fast food meal with your Avengers card. I'm not sure how Jarvis will interface with a swipe machine."
"Oh," Steve says, coming to the front door. "I just meant that opening the door with the card is easy." Swipe swipe? Maybe it just SENSES PROXIMITY and unlocks doors. That'd be cool. "In any event, it was very nice to meet you -- Spider-Man."
Yeah. That's going to be a little weird, isn't it? "Same here." As the door's opened, he takes a step outside, still feeling weird just walking everywhere like he hasn't done in months now. "So-- I guess I'll be seeing you soon." He lifts one hand, giving Steve a little two-fingered salute and lifts his other arm, shooting off a strand of webbing. As soon as it attaches itself to the nearest spot, Peter turns and launches himself up and into the sky.