Peter comes home on Friday, pushing open the door with one hand and slinging his backpack to skid across the shiny tiles towards the couch.

Without looking at the kitchen, he turns towards the fridge, rifling though it's contents.

"Who are you?"

"Agh!" he shrieks, falling backwards. A dark-skinned warrior with braided hair and white marks decorating her face is bending over him, shiny blade pointed at his throat.

"I will say again, who are you?"

"Peter, Peter Parker," I stammer, eyes fixated on her knife.

"You're the spider-boy?"

"Spider-Man!" I protest, she cocks and eyebrow and I mutter, "but it doesn't matter."

"Huh. Thor told me about you." She straightens, flicking the blade into a hidden pocket somewhere.

"Oh, uh, he did?" I say hesitantly, getting to my feet. The girl doesn't apologize, just saunters over to the counter.

"Yes. He says you are quite adorable."

"I'm...I'm not," I say weakly, flexing my back under my shirt.

"Whatever," she says, tipping her head back and sculling the bottle left sitting on the table.

"Wow, you drink...fast," I say, watching in awe.

She finishes the bottle, raising an eyebrow, "and?"

"Nothing, I'm just impressed." I say quickly, covering up the awkwardness with blabber, "Not even Mr. Stark can drink that fast, and I've seen him down a full bottle of champagne to get away from talking to a journalist."

"Hmm," she says, slamming her bottle down. "Want some?"

What if it's really disrespectful not to take what's given to you?! Omigod I have to take it. Only a sip would be okay...right? "Uh, yeah, sure." I say.

"No! The spider-BABY would not like any." Quick as a whip, Tony darts in, grabbing the offending bottle and dashing away.

"Mr. Stark!"

"You are underage!" he says from the lounge. "It's illegal, Underoos! Illegal!"

"Yeah, but it's Asgardian, Tony, Asgardian. I'm being cordial!"

"That doesn't matter! You are not getting drunk until you are at least 30!"

"What about you!"

"What about me?" he says, cocking his head, daring me to continue.

I roll my eyes, "Mr. Stark, everyone remembers Halloween 2006."

He goes to say something, but his mouth open and closes like a goldfish, "okay, but— that is totally different."

"Is it?" I taunt.

"Yes, because I was over-age and a functioning adult."

I raise my eyebrows, "Mr. Stark, you're not a functioning adult now."

"That's true, but you're not drinking on my watch."

Peter blinks, eyes flicking everywhere, "Uh, yeah, I've never gotten drunk before," he says nervously... no he LIES nervously.

Tony narrows his eyes, "Peter—"

Peter cuts him off before he can even start to grill him.

"Okay, it was one time and Flash invited us to this party and people were drinking... so FOR SCIENCE Ned and I decided to test if I can get drunk. I can," I bursts out, wringing my fingers together.

"Kid," Tony sighs, resting his hand in his forehead.

"I can get hangovers too." I tell him solemnly. "Although mine aren't that bad. I think.

Tony is leaning on the counter, swearing and moaning: "what am I gonna tell his aunt? Do I tell his aunt? Whyyy Peter."

The knife-girl is leaning on the counter, toying with the empty bottle in her hands. "oh, I like you," she murmurs, voice a strange twist of Asgard and Sakaar.

"My name's Valkyrie, by the way."

"Hi," I say, leaning over Tony to shake her hand. She eyes my outstretched fingers for a moment, and then shakes my hand lightly.