Author: EnyaAzari

Rating: T for now

Summary: Peter Parker is ordered, by command of SHIELD, to take up residence in the former- Stark tower. This is a Multi-chapter fanfiction.

Pairing: Clintasha, Pepperony, Thane (if Jane comes in), and Peter/Gwen Stacy.

Disclaimer: I do not own MARVEL or any of its affiliates.

AN: I apologize extensively for my disappearance. A month or so ago, my laptop and user accounts were hacked by a malicious trojan horse. This deleted all of my files. After buying a new PC, I logged on and found that the files on FanFiction were unharmed. So, I am reposting many of my stories. Updates will start to flow regularly within the week. I apologize once more for the inconvenience.

Hailstorm

...

"…In response to these events, Director Fury of SHIELD has requested that you, Peter Parker, take residence at the former Stark Tower with the Avengers until such time that the council deems it appropriate to remove you from their care…"

…

Peter Parker stood outside the entrance to Stark tower. A day satchel, containing his school books, was slung over his shoulder, and his two, rather worn suitcases were clutched in either hand. In the back pocket of his khaki's, his admittance slip and ID card were tucked away securely. Exhaling a stressed breath, Parker stepped forward, lurching slightly from the weight of the extra baggage. Although Tony Stark had been kind enough to provide first-class transport from Queens to his current location, no such help had been presented in terms of his luggage. Not that he minded.

As the cool air of the immaculate vestibule hit the adolescent, Peter sighed in relief. Peter, planting his luggage next to a Jade tree, withdrew the paperwork required for admittance, from his back pocket. The receptionist, blonde woman in her early thirties, smiled kindly up at the boy.

"What can I help you with?" She questioned in a falsified tone that mimicked pure sugar.

"Um…" Peter coughed. "I'm here to see Tony Stark. My name is Peter Parker; I was told that he was expecting me…"

The receptionist cut him off with a firm signal from her flawlessly manicured hand. "I know all about you dear. Miss. Potts will be down shortly to escort you." Peter took this as his cue to leave her presence.

Peter, feeling a tad uncomfortable with his environment, slowly lowered himself into an expensive chair at the far corner of the foyer, not far from his belongings. From this distance, Peter watched discretely as the receptionist pressed several dials on an ear piece, and began talking in what appeared to be rapid French. A few seconds later, she pushed yet another switch, and the conversation ceased. Peter glanced at his clammy hands, slightly embarrassed by his solitary predicament. As the moments lugged by, Peter grew progressively anxious.

As the clock struck one pm, the distant elevator chimed, and a tall, slim, strawberry-blond woman exited, attired in a white pants-suit, clipboard clutched in her hands. She glanced around momentarily, before striding towards him, a welcoming smile playing across her flushed lips.

"You must be Peter!" She exclaimed. Her voice was benevolent and genuine, but Peter could almost feel the authoritative waves rolling off her body. "I'm Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark's CEO and fiancée." She grinned again.

Peter beamed in response, and stuck out his hand politely. "It's nice to meet you Miss Potts."

She shook his hand and nodded in reply. "Well, the team is waiting. I'll have Agent Fuerst bring the luggage up. I believe you are already acquainted with him."

Peter nodded. Agent Fuerst had been one of the agents to initially inform him of his situation.

"Well then, its best you come with me."

The pair headed towards the elevator in which Pepper had appeared.

"This is a private elevator for the inhabitants only. Since the bottom four floors are open for tours on Saturdays, Mr. Stark thought it best to install a separate entrance." She inserted a keycard to an awaiting slot, and selected a button at the top of the control panel. "I expect that the others will want to give you a tour, but I thought that you might want, at least, some sort of …" she paused. "Uh…some sort of general direction." She took a moment to unclip a pamphlet from the top of her clipboard. She handed the paper to Peter, who carefully examined the material.

"It's a map."

She grinned. "Yes, it's a map. Trust me; this place is so enormous that I still get lost sometimes. Here…" She opened the pamphlet and pointed to a long diagram of… was that ninety-eight floors?! Pepper began to rattle off information. "Except for the garage, the thirty or so floors along the bottom really have no purpose, so I don't think you'll be going in there. Now," She gestured towards floor forty-five. "This is where the actual 'living' space begins. Mostly, those are training rooms for um…well; you'll meet them in a moment. Mr. Stark also uses a floor or two in that general area for storage of miscellaneous parts. Around floor 60, there is another rather large gap of space, but Mr. Stark is about to begin renovating those to be conference rooms, technology labs, and smaller guest quarters for the SHIELD employees that often visit." She took a breath from her extensive monologue. Peter looked at the flashing beacon above the elevator doors; they were approaching level eighty- two. "Now, where you really want to pay attention is up here." Pepper was now pointing at floor eighty. This is where the Avengers and I hold residence. Mr. Stark has already arranged for you to be staying at the…" The elevator dinged Peter froze. Pepper placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and grinned.

"Let's go meet your roommates."

…

Whatever Peter had been expecting, the scene that met his eyes wasn't even in the same league as his original anticipation. Six humanoid figures were spread out across an expansive area, and as far as Peter could tell, only one had observed his arrival. Directly across the room, if you could call it that, was a wall of seamless windows that offered a spectacular view of Manhattan and the surrounding sections of New York City. To the left of the window was what appeared to be a miniature landing strip that extended off of the tower's side. To the right, a long corridor disappeared into a long curve, presumably leading to living quarters or other miscellaneous chambers. A long, obsidian alcoholic bar stood to the left of the landing strip, bar-stools lining the counter's curve. A leather and chrome couch rested in the center of the expanse, with a few expensive armchairs littering the remaining space. A glass center console rested in the middle of the furniture, creating a sense of unity.

Pepper and a bespeckled man wearing loose brown trousers and a green shirt, cleared their throats at the same time. The five others, the majority situated on the various armchairs or the solitary couch, whipped around.

"This is Peter Parker, often referred to as Spider-man." Pepper broke the deafening silence.

The bespeckled man that had coughed in unison with Miss Potts jumped forward, saving Peter from an awkward entrance.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Bruce Banner. We've been expecting you." The man offered a warm smile.

Peter did a double take. This was the Hulk? "Bruce Banner! Your work on the…"

"Yeah, yeah we know." A rather teasing voice came from behind Dr. Banner. The man was on the shorter side, with dark hair, dark eyes, and was dressed in a casual AC/DC shirt, and jeans. Peter recognized the man instantaneously.

"Mr. Stark." He acknowledged.

"The one and only. But, call me Tony, Mr. Stark makes me sound old." Stark replied.

A loud snort came from his left. A slightly taller man, with dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and a loose fitting black shirt and dark jeans, stood there, arms crossed and barefoot.

"Really Barton?"

"What?!" The man, Barton, exclaimed indignantly. Mr. Stark pinched his nose with his index finger and his thumb.

Tony gestured over his shoulder. "That is Clint Barton, SHIELD Agent, and master assassin. You probably know him as Hawkeye."

Peter felt his stomach give an uneasy flip. This was beginning to explain the need for all those extra training rooms.

"Call me Clint." Hawkeye spoke up, winking at Peter. Peter felt his stomach settle, and returned Clint's welcoming look with a small smile. Clint seemed like a generally pleasant guy; well, until you got on his bad side.

"I am Thor of Asgard, Man of Spider." A booming voice called.

Peter jumped at the sudden sound, and once the actual words had settled in his brain, he wrestled with the strong desire to burst out laughing. Man of Spider?

"Umm… it's nice to meet you Thor." He looked towards the sound of the voice, and his eyes met with a figure so large that Peter was surprised that he had not noticed the man, correction: Norse god, before.

"Nice going Goldilocks." Stark commented.

Stark did have a point, Peter mused. There was something about long Thor's golden hair that gave it a "L'Oreal- esque" quality.

"Save it Stark." Yet another voice echoed through the room. "Excuse me Thor."

A man, shorter than Thor by an inch or two, and equally blonde, popped around from behind Thor's massive head. His clothing had a look of the 1940's, and his hair cut mimicked the popular styles from a similar time.

"This is Captain America, Peter." Stark signaled at the "vintage" soldier. "But, we like to call him Capsicle."

Capsicle groaned. "Hello Peter." He stated chirpily, all signs of previous annoyance essentially evaporated. "And umm…please call me Steve." Steve shot a glare in Tony's direction, but said billionaire was much too busy biting his fingernails and looking a much smaller figure in the back of the crowd…

"Is our resident Spider gonna come out and meet her new counterpart?" Stark teased.

Peter arched an eyebrow; Resident Spider? The sound of skin upon skin echoed throughout the room abruptly, and Stark let out a very girlish squeal, clutching his cheek.

"That hurt Tasha…" he groaned.

The woman, Peter assumed, stepped out from her secreted position next to Clint (who had bent over in pure hysterics), and behind Steve (who wore a disapproving look upon his authoritative features).

She was a rather petite woman in terms of height, the crown of her wild mass of curly, flaming, locks reaching Clint's shoulder, at best. Her skin was a light ivory, with hints of soft pink in her cheeks. Her eyes were a dark, piercing green, and her curvaceous figure was clothed in tight fitting jeans and a loose, button down, white blouse. When her body shifted, Peter's sharp eyes detected the outline of a semi-concealed gun holster secreted around her hips.

She extended a slender hand, and Peter shook it lightly. "Natasha Romanoff. I'm a SHIELD Agent, and Clint's partner." She nodded in the direction of said assassin.

Stark laughed. "She forgot the part that she's the Black Widow."

Peter's stomach dropped into his ankles. Natasha, who had obviously noticed some sort of radical facial change, grinned. "Don't worry; I'm not going to assassinate you."

"That is, unless you piss her off." Clint commented, biting into an apple that had mysteriously appeared.

How? Never mind… Peter didn't want to know.

Pepper placed light, comforting hand on his back. He had almost forgotten that she was present.

"I need one of you to show him to his room. I have to be at a press conference in five minutes." She stared at each Avenger in turn, the majority, cowering under her glare.

"Eh… I'll do it." Clint stepped forward, chucking his apple core twenty feet across the room into an open waste bin. He smirked at Peter. "Come on kid."

Alright! That's a wrap.

Adios,

EnyaAzari