A/N: Sorry for the delay in update. Chapter three will be up sooner, I promise. Notes at the bottom.


Now, when you work out where to draw the line

Your guess is as good as mine

-Coldplay, "God Put A Smile Upon Your Face"


Chapter 2: God Put A Smile Upon Your Face

Naveen

"You're giving me that look again." Harry said one afternoon after he'd spent the morning with Peter.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, not sure what he meant.

"You're giving me the 'poor orphan boy' look again." He clarified.

"Oh. My bad." I apologized. I turned my gaze back down to my notebook. I had pages of neat notes interrupted by pages of post-its and pictures taped to papers with scribbles and sloppy notes. I flexed my hand, stretching my fingers out. I flipped past a page with the pictures of the selected high school interns for this year, past another one full of phone number references for research projects they'd be working on, then I stopped on one with a picture of Peter Parker taped to it.

Harry hadn't told me much about Peter Parker other than that they went to the same boarding school summer program together in middle school. They'd kept in touch the old fashioned way, writing letters to each other like pen pals. I'd found a shoebox in Harry's childhood bedroom full of all sorts of things, a stack of letters from Peter being one of them. I knew I was overstepping my boundaries by a large margin, but something didn't seem right to me about Peter. Not necessarily wrong, but something was off about him.

The picture in my notebook was from the last letter Peter had sent to Harry.

Hey Harry, sorry I haven't written back in a while. In all fairness, neither have you. Are you still on track to graduate a semester early? That would explain the spacey-ness in your letters. Anyways, what colleges are you looking into? I know you said you got into Empire State, but did Princeton ever get back to you? I haven't gotten any letters yet. I sort of got a job at Oscorp the other day. I was in the building when I met Dr. Connors (do you know him?) and he asked me to help him with some of his work. He said he worked with my dad. He said he knew your dad too, when your dad was still working. How is your dad by the way? I don't know how well you stay in contact with him, but I was wondering.
I don't have much else that I can tell you really, except sorry for the pictures. Aunt May said I should send them. I only included two since I knew looking at three pictures of me might make you throw up. They're not the nicest senior pictures of all time, they would've been better if I did them myself. But that would only happen if I was able to photograph myself in third person. Maybe I can figure out a way to do that, through science or something.

Best wishes,
Peter

That letter was unopened. The picture in my notebook had a note next to it, background check? with an arrow pointed at Peter's face. I was just planning on googling him, but then I read the letter. He said he worked with my dad. Then it clicked. Parker. Peter was Richard Parker's son. He was the one who came up with the original decay rate algorithm. Looking up Peter in Oscorp's files was a whole other can of worms. Norman Osborn had been keeping track of the Parker family since Richard's and Mary's deaths. It all seem wrong. There was something bigger at hand that I wasn't picking up on. I felt paranoid, the pictures of Peter in my notebook didn't help much either.

"What are you checking?" Harry asked suddenly. I flipped to another page fearing he'd seen my CSI stalker notes, but he was distracted by his copy of the Wall Street Journal.

"Tomorrow's schedule." I lied smoothly, finding the page I was looking for. "Intern orientation starts tomorrow. Six AM sharp, which means you need to be out of bed by four. I'll be at the manor at five with your driver."

"What about tomorrow's scans?"

"Delayed to ten. As long as the time frame stays the same scans, injections, and medication times can be adjusted." I explained.

"Naveen, do you like Peter?" Harry put down his paper.

"Do I like him?" I repeated.

"You just seem a little cold towards him." Harry explained.

"I hardly know him," I said. "I'm supposed to be making sure nothing bad happens to you and you've been spending a lot of time with someone I don't know."

"You're my personal assistant, not my overprotective mother."

"I'm more than a personal assistant, you said so yourself." I closed my notebook, trying to find the right words to say. "Harry, I don't mean to sound like a mother, but I'm going to. I don't know Peter. I don't know who he is and I don't know what you do together so I worry."

"We drive into the woods, and have passionate make out sessions in the backseat of his car," Harry said, the smirk was clear on his face and in his voice. He noticed I didn't appreciate the joke. "I talk to him. We talk. We're twenty year old guys together. I get to be normal." I sighed.

"I know. I should back off and stop worrying." I admitted.

"You should," Harry said. "That's why I'm giving you the day off tomorrow." My head jerked up at the sound of that. "What, you think I can't handle myself?"

"No, I just- you haven't given me a personal day yet," I explained. "Up until now it's all been pre scheduled." Harry took a sip of his coffee.

"I'm feeling spontaneous lately." He said.

After we got back to Oscorp Harry and I went to a prototype meeting for a series of super soldier armor pieces. Harry was far more interested in the mechanics and tech department than I was, so I let him do most of the work. I took care of a few things on my phone. A message from my friend Emily popped up.

EK: Hey. Sorry I didn't text back last night. I was part of a catering team for a wedding. We were out until FOUR AM.

I smiled to myself.

NB: It's fine. I'm worse than you are. No need to apologize.

EK: So what are u up to today? Test tubes and pipettes or pencil skirt and tablet?

NB: The second one. I'm drowning in background checks. Some asshole snuck into the student internship program two years ago and now I have to do photo and fingerprint recognition in addition to making sure nobody is sneaking in to steal secrets or something. It's like I'm working at an airport.

EK: U have a lot to hide at Oscorp?

NB: I'll leave that unanswered.

EK: What exactly is "drowning in background checks"?

NB: Sixteen people

I looked up for a moment, pretending that I was partially listening, Harry nodded and asked another question. I looked back down at my phone.

EK: I thought u said there were only 15 interns?

NB: There are. I have to background check Harry's friend, Peter. Turns out his dad used to work for Oscorp, I'm investigating.

EK: Oh yeah, u mentioned that. What was his last name again?

NB: Parker. Why?

Emily didn't respond. I wondered if she was on break and it had just ended.

Then I got a text an hour later.

1 Attachment

Is this the Peter Parker you were talking about?

I opened the message and found a picture of Peter, it was the other senior picture he'd sent Harry, the one that I didn't have in my notebook.

NB: Where did you even find that picture?

EK: One of our waiters interned at The Daily Bugle.

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't remember it.

EK: WAIT. This IS him? THIS is your Peter Parker.

NB: Yes.

I hoped she could feel me rolling my eyes through text.

NB: WHERE DID YOU GET THE PICTURE?

EK: The Daily Bugle's website. It's part of his bio.

Of course. The Daily Bugle was a newspaper. How could I forget?

EK: That aside, why didn't you tell me he was cute?

I rolled my eyes again.

NB: Didn't seem relevant. And he's not "my" Peter Parker. He's not "my" anything.

Except maybe "my" problem.


Peter

The Daily Bugle was gradually becoming a worse job with every day that passed since Spider-Man had retired. Spider-Man shots were the pictures that got me the job. The only reason I hadn't gotten fired or quit yet was because The Bugle had a student program where they didn't have to pay me in full if they paid for part of my tuition. That sounded great, but it really ended up meaning I got half the paycheck and would probably still have around half a million dollars in student loan debt. It got my name out there though. I had a crappy free website where I did photography commissions and even though it didn't get much traffic, I was willing to take whatever I could get. I was walking past Mr. Jameson's office when I saw he was in with someone. She looked oddly familiar, even though I could only see her profile. I swore I heard my name being said, and I tried to see if I could read what was what written on some of the papers in her hands. She wrote something down on a post it note and handed it to him.

"...yes? Okay, thank you." She said smiling. I noticed something in the corner of her mouth. It looked like she had a split lip. I wondered if it hurt her to smile. As she started to close her notebook, I knew I saw my picture inside- spider-enhanced vision or not- I knew. I stood to the side of the door as she walked to open it, then I bumped into her, hard. Her notebook fell from her hands and a few papers tucked inside fell out.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn't even see you- I'm not wearing my glasses, you see. I'm such a klutz without them." I used my gee-golly-oh-shucks voice. I bent down instantly to pick up the papers she'd dropped, putting them into her notebook as I searched for the page with my picture.

"It's fine, you're fine. Thank you-" she stopped rambling as soon as I stood up to look at her. She recognized me instantly, but it took me an extra three seconds. It was Naveen Briar, Harry's assistant.

Her eyes were the first thing I picked up on. She was wearing different glasses with thicker rims, and her makeup was different. Her eyeliner was on her lower waterline instead of her usual thin swipe of liquid liner on her eyelids, she wasn't wearing eyeshadow either. Her makeup altogether was lighter. Her hair was messy- like bedhead, but still nice and presentable for public messy- in contrast to the usual styled looks of straight hair, curls, or some sort of updo that kept her hair out of her face. I glanced down and caught the last prominent change in her facial appearance; she didn't have a split lip, she had a pierced lip, two black metal rings ran through her lower lip.

"Peter." Naveen said, slowly and shocked, like she still didn't believe it was me.

"Naveen," I responded. "Fancy seeing you here looking not so fancy." I glanced down at her casual clothes. She tugged on the sleeves of her shirt self consciously and took her lips rings between her teeth before taking a deep breath and saying,

"Yeah. Fancy." Then I cut right to the point.

"How come you have pictures of me in your notebook?" I asked, holding it up, open to the pages in question. She reached out and took one of them into her hand before snatching the whole book from me and tucking papers into the back.

"It's not what it looks like." She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh really?" I asked, taking the book back from her free hand. "Because you have a picture of me with a note next to it saying," I paused to read it, raising my eyebrows as I read it for the first time. "'Background check?'"

"That's not-" Naveen reached for her book again and I held it over my head. She glared at me. "Really? Are we in middle school or something?"

"I don't know, is this your diary?" I teased. She jumped and took it from my hand as I was caught off-guard.

"I don't have time for this." She mumbled walking away.

"Hey," I called, going after her as she sped up. "Judging from your lack of a button down and blazer, this is your day off. So you've got plenty of time to explain the weird stalker-detective notes you've got on me." I said. We came to a stop at the elevator. Naveen pushed the down button. She entered without a word and I followed her. Nobody else got on and we were left in an awkward silence. "You owe me an explanation."

"Fine." She snapped. When we came to the ground floor she grabbed my wrist, leading me out the front door. All of her huffing and puffing was kind of adorable in the same way that a small dog getting angry and barking because it thinks it's tough is.

"You're keeping pictures of me in your diary and now you want to hold my hand?" I gave her a smile. "You know, if you have a crush on me you can just say so."

"God, do you ever shut up?" Naveen groaned. "It's all sarcastic remarks and snappy comebacks with you." She stopped at the bottom of the concrete steps to The Bugle's building, and pulled us to the side and out of the way of others. "Look, my job is to keep Harry out of the press, steady on his feet, healthy, and making sure Oscorp is on the right track."

"That's a nice leash you've got him on there." I said. She rolled her eyes.

"Harry's been through more than you could understand these last three months. As much as I appreciate that you're his friend and you give him the opportunity to talk to someone his own age outside a professional setting, I have no idea who you are," Naveen began, pushing up her glasses. "The legal team and bureau for Oscorp won't let him go to lunch at a cafe without making sure it won't be swarmed by paparazzi and doesn't have any shady waiters."

"So they made you background check me?" I asked, the notes in her book were starting to make sense. Naveen sighed, seeming to relax a little bit when my edge came off.

"Yes," she said. "When I found out you work for a newspaper I jumped to conclusions. Dealing with press since Norman's death has been a nightmare."

"You thought I was taking advantage of my friendship with Harry to get an inside scoop." I finished for her.

"It wouldn't be the first time you took advantage of a friendship to gain something at your crappy job at this place." She said. My eyebrows bunched together.

"What?" I asked, completely lost on that part. Naveen looked at me with wide eyes, like I was the biggest idiot in the world and her completely obvious answer was flying right over my head. (Which it was.)

"Spider-Man!" She said. "You were friends with Spider-Man and you took advantage of that to get pictures of him, then The Daily Bugle completely trashed him in their unbelievably biased articles. For all we know, that might have been the reason he disappeared." As much I could understand how it looked like that to her, it was nearly impossible to not laugh at the irony of her accusation. But I managed.

"That's not- you weren't there. I took the pictures, I pushed for them to write him as a hero. I only take the pictures, I don't write the stories." I said, my voice get high as I got defensive. Naveen crossed her arms.

"You still can't blame me for worrying." She pointed out.

"Yeah, you're right," I admitted. "It's still weird that you carry a picture of me around with you, but-"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope." I popped the letter p. It was almost too pleasing to say that. Naveen slid a backpack off of her shoulders and pushed her notebook inside.

"Well, as fun as this conversation was, I've got places to go." She said.

"Where? Your second job at Hot Topic?" I teased. Her clothes weren't really that bad. The holes in her jeans looked like they'd occurred naturally, and the rings in her lip were the only real "punk rock" thing about her look. She was dressed like a lot of twenty year old girls, I was just giving her a hard time.

"Yeah, I'll give you my employee discount when you're on your break between working at the skateboard shop and the place that sells hipster glasses." She said, voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. I actually had to smile at that, it was a good comeback. Naveen pushed past me, and started down the sidewalk towards the next subway stairwell.

"Hey, did it hurt when they put those things in your mouth?" I yelled after her. I could see her shaking her head as she walked away. I smiled to myself and went back inside The Bugle's building.


Naveen

The crumpled up picture of Peter as a child was still balled in my fist, covered in sweat as I boarded the subway. I dropped it inside my backpack. That was way too close. I knew I was an overthinker. I knew I overanalyzed and worried too much. I just couldn't stop it. Stop it stop it stop it. My phone vibrated in my pocket suddenly and I nearly jumped when it did. I looked at the message.

Private Number: Can we talk?

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Harry's number, as well as the numbers of everyone at Oscorp that I worked with, were saved to my phone.

NB: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number.

When I didn't get a response I assumed I was right.

The ride home was a blur, listening to music to stop thinking so much. It was a short two blocks from the transit station to my apartment building and I took the elevator instead of the stairs because I was feeling a little faint. When I got inside my apartment I dropped my backpack to the floor and walked into the kitchen. I pulled a can of Coke out of the fridge and popped it open. I always drank Coke when I was feeling faint because it always felt like my blood sugar was low. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how many times I did the tension relief exercises that usually worked for me. I set my phone on the counter, then set it up with the bluetooth speaker, my iTunes playlist came through on shuffle. That helped a little bit.

"You're alright." I mumbled, opening the medicine cabinet and counting the number of pills left in my prescription to make sure I'd taken one that morning. The number was right. I didn't forget. I took off my glasses and rubbed my temple, then opened a bottle of prescription painkillers for headaches and shook two into my hand. I washed them down with the last of my Coke when there was a knock on the door. I walked over and opened it.

"Yes, hello. I'm looking for a 'Dr. Greenwood'?" There was a man in a suit, looking down at a manila folder in his hand. He held up a picture of a girl with black hair in a black dress and a lab coat. It was a cropped photo, she was in a group of people, the sleeves of other lab coats were visible on either side of her. "And apparently, that would be you." He said looking up at me. His face registered immediately. Tony Stark.


Whaaaaat? Tony Stark? Oh yeah, I probably should've mentioned that for the purposes of this fic Spider-Man exists in the same universe as The Avengers, just like the comics. Like I said, this is sort of TASM movies Spider-Man, but also comics Spider-Man. I also forget to give the time setting, a year after Gwen's death in TASM2, except it wasn't Harry Osborn that killed her. It was Green Goblin though. More details on exactly how that happened in future chapters. Questions, comments, and constructive criticisms are welcome. I'll respond to any and all of them. What are your thoughts on Naveen? Are any of you liking the new cover? Let me know and see you next chapter!

*The lack of space in the chapter title between "Your" and "Face" was not a mistake, I had to do that because I hit character limit for chapter titles. Just in case any of you were going to point that out to me.