A/N: This was written for tiltedsyllogism as part of Fandom Trumps Hate. I hope you enjoy!

Peter was bored, and boredom was not good for him.

Not because he was a teenager and bored teenagers were the cause of more collateral damage than any superhero battle in history. Not because Mr. Stark was on his honeymoon and all his friends had their own plans for the weekend without him. Not even because there were no bad guys to fight (though if it were any of those three things, that would be the top of the list).

No, Peter was bored because it was just one of those days.

All he wanted to do was lay on the couch and channel surf. It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon and May would be at work until six. That left him five hours to laze around watching Dragonball Z until his brain cells died. Not even the new Millenium Falcon Lego set he got for his birthday was catching his eye. He'd stared at the box for ten minutes before going to get a glass of milk.

Speaking of which, he was kind of hungry. He thought about making a sandwich. He'd gone shopping with May yesterday and made sure she didn't forget to buy tuna this time. They still had half a jar of mayo, too.

That would require getting up, though, and as previously stated, Peter was too bored to get up.

In place of food, he found the biggest pillow and the warmest blanket. Bundled himself up like a happy sushi roll. He turned up the volume and settled in to watch Son Gohan achieve his Ascended Super Saiyan form and hand Cell his worthless bug man ass. This was his all-time favorite saga and he could watch it over and over again.

"Help! He has my purse! Please help!"

Or he could suit up and go do some hero-ing.

Peter sighed as he left his comfy spot on the couch and activated his Iron Spider suit.

Two minutes later, he handed an elderly woman her bag while the would-be thief was webbed to a lamp post. The old woman thanked Peter profusely and gave him a dollar for his troubles. Flying off, Peter almost went back home before deciding he might as well do some quick patrolling.

He soared across twenty blocks like a red and blue bird that had web grenades instead of wings. It was pretty badass but other than a kid trying to grab a candy bar when his mom wasn't looking, no one was doing anything wrong so he had nothing to use them on. He found a building with a good enough view for him to monitor activity. After only a few minutes, he was on his back looking at the sky.

"That cloud looks like a palm tree." He pointed at the cloud in question, which had a jagged edge resembling a palm leaf.

"That would be a cumulus cloud," said Karen in his ear. "High precipitation is unlikely today."

"Sure is," Peter said. His stomach grumbled, not caring nearly as much about clouds as the rest of him.

"It sounds like you should go and get some lunch. My sensors indicate you're below acceptable daily calorie intake."

"Hey come on, I had breakfast."

"Hershey bars are empty calories and don't count as breakfast."

When did Karen start mom-ing him so much? Must've been a new feature Mr. Stark added without telling him.

There was a pretty good pizza shop two blocks away. Not the healthiest choice, but a slice or six would fill him up and Karen couldn't complain about that. Today was the best day to go anyway. Saturday was half off day for high school students. Maybe he'd bring home a whole pie while he was at it.

Peter ducked into an alley to switch back to his street clothes. He walked into the shop, just an average kid hungry for some pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese. There was a short line and a girl at the counter asking the employee a bunch of questions about toppings. Peter wouldn't have thought much of it, except the girl was Shuri Udaku.

Literally Shuri Udaku.

In a pizza place.

In Queens.

Alone.

"So what does sausage and pepper pizza taste like?"

The guy at the counter, a pockmarked, bearded man around college age, looked as though he was re-evaluating his life choices and having an existential crisis all in the span of four seconds. "It tastes good. Just like everything else on the menu. Do you know what you want to order yet?"

Shuri rubbed her chin. "What if I added olives?"

The pizza guy looked ready to strangle her, so he probably didn't know she was a literal princess of a literal country with literally the most advanced scientific innovations of anywhere ever.

Maybe because she was wearing jeans and an Adventure Time t-shirt. Or because she was on her own with no bodyguard-looking guys wandering around checking people's backpacks for bombs.

"Adding olives is also good," said the pizza guy. "Whatever you want to put on your pizza, it will be good, now can you please order? You're holding up the line."

Shuri turned to look at the four or five irate customers who'd been waiting semi-patiently for her to make a decision. Her eyes met Peter's and her grin nearly ripped her face in half. "Peter Parker! How are you?"

She didn't get out of line, so Peter assumed he was supposed to go to her. Did he also have to bow? Did he call her Her Highness? He should've asked all these questions last time he was in Wakanda.

"Uh… hi Shuri," he said, waving like an idiot. "I mean… good morning, Your Grace. How uh… how are doing this fine morning?"

Shuri shrugged. "My brother had a meeting, but I was bored and decided to take a walk. By the way, what kind of pizza do you like?"

"Well, I-"

"There are so many kinds I just want to try them all!"

The other people in line groaned. One stormed out the door cursing.

"I usually just get pepperoni and mushrooms," Peter said. "I'm not all that adventurous with pizza, I guess."

"Sounds like an adventure to me!"

Shuri ordered them each three slices. That was far more pizza than any reasonable person needed, but as correcting actual royalty might not be the best idea, he accepted his plate with only a 'thank you'.

They found a table by the window. "So have you never had pizza before?"

"Not really," said Shuri. "We've been to a few banquets, but mostly they just serve caviar and foie gras. Or worse, they try to make Wakandan food."

She gagged before shoving a slice of pizza in her mouth.

"Was it not good?"

"It was like eating old rubber." She gagged again. "Those chefs didn't know what a border lamb was, much less how to cook it."

"I don't think I've ever eaten lamb before," Peter said. He pulled a piece of pepperoni out of the cheese to nibble on it. They always used the old world stuff and if it wouldn't give him a heart attack before he turned forty, Peter would eat here every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Shuri didn't speak for a while. She was far too polite to talk with her mouth full. All three of her slices were gone before Peter was halfway through his second.

"That was great," she said. "Way better than I expected. I thought you guys just put mayonnaise on everything."

Peter thought about pizza with mayonnaise on it. Then he stopped because he wasn't in the mood to throw up. "I mean, some people do. My aunt doesn't use it much in her cooking, but she's Italian so she mostly does pasta and meatballs. Her penne alla vodka is incredible."

"Cool. I'll come over and try it sometime."

Peter laughed, not knowing what else to do. She didn't sound like she was joking, but the idea of a princess in his apartment, sitting on the old couch May found six years ago in a secondhand shop, eating at his cramped table that only seated four… well, it was just a weird mental image.

Then again, so was a princess eating pizza with him while wearing a shirt with a yellow cartoon dog on it.

After finishing their food they left the shop and walked half a block while Peter tried to figure out something good to say. If he was going to run into anyone he knew, it should've been Ned with a new Lego set or MJ flipping him off or Flash yelling 'Penis Parker' as he drove by in his dad's new car. The last time he met Shuri, they'd both just come back from a pile of ashes. Not much time for conversation while trying to stop an evil alien from killing them again and then dealing with the fallout when it was over.

It was sad because there were a lot of things he'd love to talk about with Shuri. Mr. Stark called her the smartest person in the world, and after seeing some of her tech in action, Peter had to agree.

Now he finally had the chance and all he could think about was all the DBZ he could be watching instead of standing out here on the verge of humiliating himself.

"So…" He had a wedgie and almost picked it. If Shuri noticed, he was probably going to die. "You wanna see a movie or something? As a friend thing, not a date thing. I didn't mean to imply a date thing. Just a friend thing."

She looked like she wanted to laugh, but didn't. Peter appreciated that, but he also wished melting was one of his superpowers. That would be useful right now.

"I have to be back by tonight or T'Challa will realize I'm gone and send the Dora Milaje looking for me. How about we go to your place for a while?"

Peter blinked. "I… sure, but they're not going to come tearing my apartment apart thinking I kidnapped you or something, are they?"

Shuri laughed. "Trust me, they're way more discreet than that. But it's fine, they know I can handle myself. Do you have a gaming system?"

"Depends. What kind?"

"Any kind. I've always wanted to see what the mass-produced stuff is like."

'There is no way this is really happening,' Peter thought as he led Shuri down the street to his building.

'Oh my God, this is really happening.'

Twenty minutes later, they were back in his living room. Shuri had found the remote and turned on the TV. She flipped through a bunch of channels him and May never used while drinking orange juice (the only thing in the fridge besides water). Her feet were flat on the floor as was respectable in a stranger's home, but otherwise, he could easily mistake her for a random kid from his class.

"There's not much on," she said. She stopped on an episode of Jeopardy, then kept going.

"There never is," said Peter. "Do you watch a lot of TV back home?"

"Not really. I'm too busy working." She dropped the remote and they watched the tail end of a commercial for one of those energy drinks that was really just powdered sugar in water. "I did break into the signal for an American broadcast network once when I was seven. There wasn't much on then either, but I loved The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

"That's cool," Peter said weakly. "When I was nine I found this old car battery in the trash and I tricked it out to work on my laptop in case there was a power outage… but that's not as cool as what you did. It was just something I…"

Shuri smiled. "No, that's not bad for a nine-year-old. I think it's pretty awesome."

Peter stammered a response that really wasn't a response at all. It sounded more like he was practicing animal noises. His frog, in particular, was top notch.

They returned to an episode of Chopped. One competitor got eliminated for overcooking his chicken in the appetizer round and gave a speech about perseverance and overcoming failure as he took his walk of shame. Peter had never seen this one before. He watched sometimes with May, who tuned in every week and liked to make bets with him on who would win (if he was right, he wouldn't have to do the dishes that night).

The entree basket was one of the weirder ones, featuring fish heads paired with chocolate covered pretzels of all things. Peter made a face. Shuri watched with fascination.

"Are they really going to cook with that?"

"Pretty much, yeah. They have to find a way to make all the ingredients go together."

"I could do that," Shuri said, but there was something in her voice Peter didn't recognize. Not from her anyway. She wouldn't make eye contact with him either.

"So you cook?"

She sucked on her lips. "I've… done it before. A few times."

"I suck at cooking," Peter said. "Once when I was twelve, I tried to make pasta for May on her birthday. I almost set the whole oven on fire."

She winced sympathetically. "Hope you didn't get in trouble."

"I just got grounded. I was so freaked out I wouldn't set foot in the kitchen for a month. I guess May thought that was punishment enough."

At the end of the round, all three chefs had what looked like perfectly good dishes to Peter's food illiterate eyes. Listening to their confession cams, one would think they just dumped all the food on the plates and called it a day.

"I can't cook either," Shuri admitted. "I tried way more times than you, but I just can't get the hang of it."

"That's okay," said Peter. "Nobody is good at everything."

"People always say there's a science to cooking and I'm the best scientist in the world." Shuri crossed her arms. "So I should be able to figure it out, right?"

Peter didn't know if that was a rhetorical question or not. He wouldn't have a good answer anyway, so he just shrugged again. He'd been doing a lot of that.

"Maybe we could try it together," she said. "I make the appetizer, you make the entree, and we'll split dessert."

"You think our lack of cooking skills will cancel each other out?"

"Maybe," she said. "Realistically we'd probably just make double the mess and end up with equally inedible food as we got trying on our own, but it's still slightly possible. And if it's slightly possible, I will make it happen."

He believed her. Mr. Stark had encouraged them to become friends exactly for this reason. In his eyes, people like him and Shuri were the way of the future. Best they start working together now rather than later.

They should probably stick to ordering out, though.

"Sometimes I think about trying plantains," she said thoughtfully. "My brother makes amazing fried plantains."

"He does?" Peter tried to wrap his head around that image. It wasn't likely His Majesty would cook in his suit, but he couldn't stop picturing the Black Panther wearing a Kiss the Cook apron and a puffy white chef's hat while flipping plantains in a frying pan.

"You'd never want to eat anything else for the rest of your life."

The chef Peter was rooting for lost in the final round, so it was a good thing May wasn't home. He really didn't want to do the dishes. As the winner celebrated, Shuri switched to a random nature documentary. The volume was low and they soon tuned it out.

"Thanks for letting me come by," Shuri said, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch. "I hope I haven't been bothering you."

"No- what? You kidding?" Peter tried to mimic her pose, but missed and slid all the way down, smashing his cheek against the leather cushion. "Uh… I mean, that's what friends do, right?"

She grinned. "Sure is."

Now might be a good time to offer her a refill. Or ask if she wanted to come and see the new webbing he was working on. That was in his room, though, and showing her his room might be weird when they'd only met a few times. And this was her first time in his house. And his room looked like a bomb went off.

At least he'd remembered not to leave his underwear on the floor.

Before he could come up with a reasonable course of action, the front door opened, and in came May, keys and a single bag of groceries in hand. This should have been where Peter greeted her and asked about her day while trying to explain why he had a girl she'd never met before in their apartment. He had the 'Hey May, how was your day?' part almost out when he registered the size of her bulging eyeballs and the total lack of color in her cheeks.

"Peter," she said, glancing briefly in Shuri's direction.

"Uh.. hi May, I…" he looked at her bag. He should've taken it, but his arms and legs wouldn't move.

"You didn't tell me we were having guests, Peter."

"Yeah, I wasn't totally expecting it myself, but I was out saving someone and I ran into Shuri so I… wait, did you say guests?"

May nodded.

"Like, as in more than one person?"

She nodded again.

He caught a shadow out in the hall just before the literal King of Wakanda walked in.

Peter always thought King T'Challa would look less imposing without the cat mask and the claws that could tear his face off. That was stupid of him because of course, the ruler of a country can make you want to prostrate yourself at his feet just with a look. That he was dressed in a suit like any other guy on Wall Street did not help. Maybe if he had one of those ridiculous ties May used to buy for Ben as a joke.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Parker," he said in his super regal 'King' way.

Peter felt like bowing again. In fact, maybe May should curtsy. Had she curtsied already?

"Uh…" Peter gulped. "Yeah. I mean, good afternoon to you, too, Your Majesty."

"Hey T'Challa," said Shuri without leaving the couch. "How was the meeting?"

"You'd know if you had stayed."

"I was sitting there for two hours and no one even asked me anything," she said. "Just wait until they see the new suit I made you. Makes your old one look like a cheap toy."

"You designed my old one, too."

"I also designed toys when I was three. Not much different."

The look T'Challa gave May was something to the effect of 'do you see what I have to put up with?' That would've been weird enough without May's 'I know what you mean' type nod.

"Mr. Parker, I hope we haven't inconvenienced you."

"Oh no, never," Peter said. "Shuri's great. I love her... I mean, I love hanging out with her. Not like… not like that. That- I mean, no. I mean…"

He shut his mouth and worked on untangling his tongue while Shuri vaulted over the couch and stuck out a hand to May. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. Peter tells me you make great penne alla vodka."

May's eyes flicked to Peter, which could mean she was thanking him for talking her up or grounding him. Maybe both. "Oh, it's nothing. Just my grandmother's recipe."

"That doesn't sound like nothing." Shuri leaned in close. "Let me tell you how my brother learned to make vegetable pilau."

"Why don't we save that conversation for another time," T'Challa quickly stepped in. "I apologize for cutting this visit short, but we are needed elsewhere."

"We should do this again, though," Shuri said, offering her fist to Peter, who hesitated a moment before bumping it.

"Yeah, we should," he said. "It was fun."

"How about dinner?" Shuri suggested. "You could come to our place or we could come here. Only if you want to, of course."

"We wouldn't want to impose," May said. "I'm sure you're both very busy."

"Too busy if you ask me," said Shuri, "but we have some free time coming up, right?"

She might as well have batted her eyelashes for how big her puppy dog eyes were. T'Challa was caught in her trap before he had the chance to look away. Even May seemed suddenly less opposed to the idea.

"Well…"

And that was how Peter ended up having a penne alla vodka and fried plantains dinner two nights later with a king and a princess sitting on rickety chairs in his Queens apartment.

But hey, strangers things can happen.