Whoop, whoop! This chapter is almost three thousand words! Anyways, here is the next chapter. I'm so proud that I got the update out in only a week. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and if you do, please let me know what you though about it. Plus, if you've got any suggestions, I'm welcome to those as well.

Tony Stark sat in his fine leather chair in his workshop. Of course it was a swivel chair, so that he could spin and move around from desk to desk with ease. And, because a chair with wheels is always more fun. It was nearly two in the morning and he was working on something. What he was quite working on he didn't really remember, but he knew that it was important.

Papers of all sorts were sprawled across the desk and the floor. It was a mess that Tony should really look into cleaning. But he didn't care since he was the only one that ever came into the room. There was a half finished coffee mug on the desk, and it tilted when he picked it up.

Groggily, Tony watched little drops of coffee spill over the edge and onto the pearl white papers on the desk. He muttered some colorful words before reaching for a paper towel to clean up the mess. Those papers were probably important?

It didn't matter as much as what FRIDAY was saying in the background.

"Sir, there is someone at the front door."

Just on que, the doorbell echoed through the tower.

"Who?"

"It appears to be...Spider-Man."

Tony's head snapped up and he was now wide awake. "Tell him I'm coming," he ordered.

"At once," FRIDAY replied. "Then try to get some rest, sir."

Tony dabbed the papers a little too rough with the towel and downed the rest of his coffee. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and quickly hurried to the front door, eager to see Peter Parker, but praying to the gods that nothing was wrong.

~.~.~

Finally, she was done cleaning. Finally, he could go save the innocent souls across New York.

May had decided that the apartment wasn't tidy enough. And she wouldn't let Peter leave until it was spotless to her approval. That is, even Peter's room itself had to be clean. Let's just say it took a lot of words to convince May not to go in there - she might open up the closest and when a spandex suit and web-shooters fall out, she will definitely not be pleased. Although when Peter did grab his backpack to take a walk and maybe stop at Ned's he was positive May did end up walking in her nephew's room.

But that was okay now. It was fine now that he had the suit stashed away in his backpack. He quickly changed and was currently scooping out the city of Queens. It was a really hot Saturday, and Peter was actually considering not going out web-slinging. He was sweating in the suit. And, oh, it was so nice and air conditioned in his apartment.

Peter shook his head. No, he needs to stay and help. He got this powers for a reason.

He jumped from the building and web-slung around the city. That moment when he was so close to the ground excited him. He was always inches from giving a random citizen a high-five. Most of the time, he made it work. And he knew that people loved just seeing him almost float above them as they hurried to work. It gave them hope that someone cared to look out for them.

And some times, that's all people needed: hope.

The day of spider work was somewhat boring. No more alien tech, no more Germany; just plain old street crimes. Just some wanna-be villains and their poor excuse of a plan. But that made it all the more boring. It was just the simple, oh, let me run by and grab his woman's purse, kind of deal. No escape vehicles, no buddy-buddy system to help them get away, no secret alleys with a disguise. Honestly, it was like child's play.

And that made Peter's quips all the more interesting.

He hung from lampposts, watched birds fly by. Peter even went to the dollar store a few times to buy some chips to snack on. Maybe, yes, you could call it slacking on the job, but after a while, New York got kind of boring.

That was, until he heard an alarm blast throughout the block. He immediately swung right side up on the sign he was hanging on and looked to where the noise was blaring from: that sweet little man with the phone chargers was being robbed.

"Finally," Peter breathed, jumping off the sign and swinging into action.

He made it down the block in only a couple short seconds and surveyed the area. There appeared to be four men: one watching the front entrance, another at the back, the third had a gun to the cashier, and the last was walking through the isles, knocking things down and giving death stares at the other people in the store.

A plan was already formed in his head.

He jumped on top of the building and mentally paused when he heard the gunshot-

Wait, that wasn't part of the plan. A gunshot?

Peter stood up on the roof of the store and ran to where the door was located. He then leaped off, spinning around and webbed the top of the doors and flew in. On his way inside, he made sure to kick the man watching square in the chest; he flew all the way to the cashier, tumbling into the one with the gun.

Of course Peter had a quip for his action, too. "Annnd, timber!" he yelled.

Peter landed on his feet. He heard some incoherent commands coming from the guy with the gun - presumably he was the leader -as he stood up and pushed his teammate off of him. In a matter of seconds, the man who was walking through the isles - he had a yellow mask on, I might add - pushed the shelves down and they crashed like dominos.

"Aw, c'mon, I liked this store," Peter whined, shooting a web out just in time to get Yellow Mask's hand stuck to the shelf he pushed. He did it a few more times all around his body, as well, so the man was immobilized and out of the picture.

Peter then climbed on the roof. He needed to get the gun off of the leader before anyone gets hurt. He realized all the other shoppers were huddled together in a corner, safe. Good, so he wouldn't need to worry about them. So instead, he focused on the gun. Peter shot a web at the gun in the man's hand and yanked it towards him.

"Give. It. Here!" Peter yelled as if he was determined to win this tug of war battle.

The man's grip was like metal and the presumed leader fell before finally letting go. Peter made sure the gun was secure to the ceiling before dropped to the floor to web-sling the leader up as he layed dazed on the floor. That was when he remembered he needed to find the shop owner-

Crisp pain shot through his jaw. He groaned out before cocking his head to the side and looking to where the hit was taken from. Well, here was the guy guarding the front door with a pipe in his hand. Peter shot at his ankles, taking the man down before making sure he couldn't get away. Then he looked around back where the last person should be.

No one was there; he must have sprinted away while he hand the chance.

Slowly, Peter walked back into the store. "Is everyone okay?" he asked the shoppers. Nods came as a reply. "Someone call the police. Does anyone know where the owner is?"

One person pointed near the cash register, as if the store owner was simply laying on the floor.

Peter grunted as he lifted up the isles enough so that everyone could squeeze by and out of the store. He dropped them in a huff and returned to the back of the shop. His fingered traced over the bullet hole which was deep inside one of the store walls. It seemed to be a warming, that they weren't messing around.

He was just glad it didn't imbed itself into anyone.

Peter leaned over the clerk desk and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. There was the owner, curled up in a ball as he whimpered. Just as Peter was telling the owner it was okay, the police sirens entered his hearing. Eventually, cops piled into the store, helping the civilians sitting by the sidewalk and the store owner as he finally entered reality again.

Peter received a few thanks as he swung away from the crime scene.

That was pretty much the highlight of his day. The rest was just as boring as it started to be. And so Peter thought it was a good idea to head home a little early tonight. Plus, there was some homework he could finish before he really had to worry about it tomorrow on Sunday. He figured that it was in his best bet to call it a night. So Peter slipped his backpack on and started to web-sling home.

Peter crawled up the edge of the building. He was so close to his nice bed in that sweet, sweet air condition. He positioned himself so that he could open his bedroom window and slip through, but it wouldn't work. Not that the window was broken or anything, but it wouldn't open. Peter tried again. He panicked inside; if he couldn't get inside, May would worry, and he'd be left outside for the night. And then people would realize that Spider-Man sleeps on a bench and-

There was no way he was going to enter the apartment from the front door and knock on his room, wake up his aunt, and get in like that. No way he would do that to her. She's busy enough and needs sleep. He couldn't make her worry like that. It would seem strange if he showed up, especially when he said he would be at Ned's. And, well, he couldn't go back to Ned's - he was really at his grandparents. Peter was running out of options here. Ugh, now he feels like that woman from the other night. It was almost two in the morning - if he tried to go somewhere else it would be just weird and suspicious. Everyone was sleeping.

Except...

His mind said it was a stupid, horrible option, but his body was already taking him there.

Because, well, because he didn't have any other place to go.

He started to get just the slightest bit cold - although it felt good - on his way to Stark Industries. Or Avenger's Tower? Whatever it was, Peter knew Mr. Stark would be there and he would be awake.

The streets below him where only lit up by the lamps...and the occasional iPhone from a rushing by-passer. Peter wondered how this would play out. He knew it was a stupid decision but desperate times call for desperate measures. Although he was for sure he'd get scolded about not sleeping and not having a key to get inside his own apartment.

Eventually, he reached that dreaded moment; he finally reached his destination. It felt a little good, knowing soon he would be able to sleep and that he didn't run out of webbing.

And he was actually thinking about going in through a window. Peter was sure there were more than enough rooms for him to sleep in one without being noticed. Although FRIDAY would probably alert Tony of a breakin. Peter decided against the window and more towards something classical: the doorbell.

He silently waited at the front door like a little kid behind their parent's leg. It didn't take quite long before he heard something moving inside the building.

"Tony Stark is on his way."

Peter jumped at the voice. Then he didn't know where to look to respond, if he should even respond. So Peter just nodded and kept looking at the ground. He knew that was FRIDAY and now he also knew and Mr. Stark knew he was waiting at the door. Peter looked behind him at the empty streets and slowly took of his mask. He thought it was impolite to greet Tony with his full suit on after they already knew who Spider-Man really was.

Eventually, the door opened. Tony leaned on the frame and Peter realized he was visually checking for any injures.

"You're not missing a limb?" Tony asked.

Peter looked up, but anywhere than Tony's eyes. "Uh, no, I'm not."

"So, you're here...why?"

"I got locked out of my apartment," Peter said softly, "and I though just for one night that-"

Tony snorted a laugh. "Spider-Boy locked himself out? Isn't your aunt home?"

"She's sleeping and I can't wake her up all suspicious like that; I said I'd be at Ned's."

"So go-"

"He's at his grandparents." Peter put his hands up and started to gesture. "I know I'm s'posed to be sleeping, and you're probably mad but I don't want to sleep on a bench tonight, Mr. Stark, and I have no where else to go. I'm sorry if I bothered you or something, but I kind of panicked."

Tony was silent. When Peter finally met his eyes, he wasn't mad at all. In fact, he was almost smiling.

"You done yet?"

"Y-yeah."

"You ready to come inside?"

"If it's okay."

"Kid, of course it's okay - I'm not gonna make you sleep on a bench."

Peter exhaled and took a step forward, entering the house. His first instinct told him to look around and admire the beautiful interior; that's exactly what he did. It never got old, not to some kid who lives in a small New York apartment. Everything looked expensive: the furniture, walls, floors, gosh, even the lights and the doors looked like they were worth more then Peter's whole apartment.

"So," Tony started. "I'm just gonna give you an extra bedroom. It has its own bathroom, so you don't have to worry about that." He led Peter down a hall, and pointed to an open door. "I'll be in there, if you need me. And the kitchen is over...there." Tony spun around and pointed into another direction.

"You'll be good, right?" he concluded.

Peter nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine, thank you," he said.

They had stopped walking and Tony pushed open a wooden door. Peter poked his head inside before fully entering. The bed was covered in silky sheets and it had a beautiful view out of the window.

"Wow," Peter breathed.

"If you need something, tell FRIDAY, otherwise I'm right down the hall." Tony slowly closed the door and walked back to the workroom.

Peter entered the bathroom. He tossed his backpack on the sink and unzipped it, bringing out his change of clothes. After he was dressed and went to the bathroom, he jumped on the bed. It was like a cloud. Before heading to sleep, Peter texted his aunt that he was saying over at a friends house and that she didnt need to worry.

And finally, Peter shut off the lights and headed to sleep.

He woke up around ten. Peter didn't want to over stay his welcome, so he gathered up a pen and paper, and wrote Tony a short thank you letter. Then he silently tiptoed through the halls, giggling when he passed the door where Tony was leaning on a desk snoring. Peter made it to the front door and unlocked it.

He jumped at the sudden voice once again.

"Goodbye, Peter."

He smiled, throwing a "Bye, FRIDAY," over his should as he left the building and got on a bus back to Queens.

~.~.~

Tony Stark, on the other hand, woke up a little past two pm. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of leftover sleep, and headed into the hallway.

FRIDAY greeted him. "Good afternoon, sir. Mr. Parker has left a note in his room. Shall I read it to you?"

"Nah, I'll read it myself," Tony replied, entering the guest room. He sat on the bed and picked up the lightly crumpled note.

Dear Mr. Stark,

Thank you for letting me stay over for the night. I'm sorry I had to leave so early, but I need to get back home before May starts calling my friends. I appreciate it and hope I didn't cause you any trouble.

From,

Peter

Tony looked up. The room was just as spotless as it was before. The bed was even made. "Did he eat anything?" Tony asked.

"No, he did not," FRIDAY answered, "but he did laugh as he passed you sleeping in the workroom."

Tony smiled, taking in a breath. "Of course he did."