A Familiar Face

"A position in your company?"

"Yeah," Tony nods, somewhat frowning. "A position in my company. Problem?"

Christina stares at both Peter and the older man quizzically. She looks out of place.

The lecture ended around ten minutes ago and was a huge success. Security invited the two superheroes backstage to speak privately with the teenage genius, away from any press.

"Well no, but..." She's choosing her words carefully, a puzzled expression on her features. "I have previous obligations. Responsibilities. I'm still in school, y'know. Homework can't just be dismissed on a whim."

Tony's face is priceless. Peter suppresses a chuckle.

"But this is Stark Industries we're talking about. Perhaps you've heard of me? Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist? I make stuff. Cool stuff. Like Iron Man suits. I made those. I'm Iron Man-"

"I'm aware of your achievements. They're incredible, no doubt - I personally thank you for saving the city from those aliens - but I need to follow my own path. I'm sorry."

Peter is wide-eyed. She's something else.

Tony is blank-faced and most likely deep in thought. Peter can't read his expressions overly well.

"The pay will be fantastic."

"I have my money sorted, thank you," she says blankly.

"The working conditions will be extraordinary."

"The labs on campus will be enough for me at the moment, thank you," she says blankly.

"You'll help work on new-age, never-before-seen stuff. Trust me."

"I'm already in the middle of making my own new-age, never-before-seen stuff, thank you," she says blankly.

Silence.

Tony scoffs, or maybe he chuckled in a playful manner. One of the two. Or perhaps both at the same time.

"I'm obviously barking up the wrong tree," he nods, smiling. "Shame. Oh well. Here's my card, in any case. Call if you think things over in the foreseeable future."

And with one final courtesy, Tony Stark leaves the room.

Peter watches as he goes and is about to follow suit before the words, "Stay," shoot into his right ear.

The voice was Tony's. The instructions came from a wireless ear-plug which Peter wore whenever out in the city in case of emergencies.

It appeared as though he was still needed, so Peter turns his attention back toward Christina and offers a shy smile.

"Interesting character. Don't worry, it's hard to work with him sometimes. You aren't the only one has trouble dealing with the great Tony Stark," he says, suddenly using body motions very reminiscent of the ones Tony himself would use.

It's a fairly impressive impersonation, if Peter does say so himself.

Christina laughs, offering a slight head shake while covering her mouth.

"Was I too harsh?" she looks into Peter's eyes sincerely, a warm smile still evident.

Peter shakes his head, also smiling. "Nah. He needs someone to push against his ego every once in a while."

"Glad to hear. I'm Christina Felter, by the way. Well, I guess you already knew that but we haven't exactly been properly introduced yet."

"True, true. I'm Peter Parker. Nice to meet you."

They shake hands.

Christina's eyes suddenly widen.

"Wait - wait. Parker? Parker? As in the Parker couple that died in the plane crash a decade ago? Richard Parker? Those Parker's?"

Peter is equally surprised. His heart starts hammering away.

"Y-yeah. He's my dad. Was my dad."

"Dude."

"D-dudette?"

"Your parents were brilliant! They - wait, no - your dad mostly - he, like - was - dude, you have no idea."

"I... guess I gotta agree, but I don't remember too much about him."

"Right, right. You would've been six when he died."

Peter looks at her questioningly.

"How do you know tha-"

"I studied them for a paper back in Senior year. Went through everything, including offspring." She clears her throat. "Peter Parker, born 1997. Placed third in the Soho Photo contemporary competition early last year. Congratulations on that, by the way. Also, you were awarded a high distinction for your efforts in the National Science Competition two years ago. Not an easy feat. Glad to see a fellow scientist my age."

An awkward chuckle manages to escape Peter's mouth.

She's... something else.

"I see you've done your research. Don't think any of my friends even know that much about me."

Christina suddenly looks a little embarrassed, realising she might have overstepped her boundaries and seemed slightly creepy.

"Probably shouldn't have blurted that all out, huh. Researcher's intuition, I guess." She smiles again.

"Nah, I understand. It's... flattering. I didn't even know all that info was on the web, to be honest."

"Back on topic," she continues, "Do you happen to know what your parents were working on before they... you know-"

Peter interjects with, "No. I'm in the deep end. Nothing was left over."

He wanted to sound absolute; plenary.

The issue with his parents had long since been buried into the back of his head. There was no point wasting time by delving into that space of his life anymore.

Peter had long since moved on.

Well, forced himself to move on, more like.

Christina looks crestfallen.

"That's a shame. I was hoping you might be able to shoot me in the direction of some old research, but I guess it's just... gone. Bummer. Richard Parker really was a genius."

Peter fakes a smirk and nods appreciatively.

His eyes feel slightly wet.

"Thanks."

The room falls silent. But, in a way, the silence is particularly soothing.

It was around five-thirty yet the birds outside were quiet. It seemed as if there wasn't a car within a three mile radius. Both he and Christina drank in the silence through every pore, soothed by it's meditative quality.

Peter takes another deep breath.

He realises he's shaking.

He tries to block out his emotions.

Each time a worrying thought emerged he mentally jotted it down on a notepad, wrapped it around a stone and threw it away into the abyss of his thoughts.

When his anxieties had finally leached into the void, he released an elated sigh and continued to bask in the nothingness surrounding him, cocooned by the thick protective buffer of the absolute quiet.

"You okay?"

Peter's eyes open.

Christina stares at him, her face blank.

"Yeah. I-I'm sorry-"

"My mother was murdered not long ago. I understand what it's like to feel like shit. No need to explain yourself, Mister Parker."

Once again Peter nods. "Thanks," he manages to say.

"So... you wanna go for a coffee?"

xxx

The fading of the sunlight had also meant the fading of the heat. Wintry air swirled around the city, taking every lick of warmth it could. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, pulling his coat closed and tucking his chin downward into his pullover. His breath was now only visible under the sporadic streetlights, the few which lit up this particularly comfy thoroughfare.

Christina points toward a quaint coffee shop, also dressed in her noticeably fancier winter attire. "That's the place."

"You go there often?"

"Nah, I've only been to New York twice. I'm from Australia."

"You... what? Where's the accent?"

"My dad's American. Mum was Australian. The accents are interchangeable, I guess. Have you ever heard of that one actor? Andrew... what was it... Garfield, or whatever?"

"Yeah, yeah. From Social Network?"

Christina bobs her head. "He's British."

"No wayyy."

A few minutes later and both teenagers are seated across from one another, looking over the menu.

Might as well eat something while he's out, Peter rationalises.

Plus the small store had a heater, so staying for longer didn't seem like a bad deal.

From deep inside his chest, through every cell of my body, the warmth welcomed him like an old friend.

"May I ask what you want to be when you graduate? Occupation-wise."

Peter is taken aback by the question.

He isn't sure of the answer, truth be told.

"I... uh - I suppose I'll just take whatever opportunities come my way. I'm already top of the class in most subjects so a high GPA is kinda guaranteed, I guess." He shrugs. "I'll just make-do with whatever I'm given."

"You don't plan on going to college?"

Of course he wants to.

But Aunt May can't afford it.

And even though she desperately wants to make it a reality for her nephew, Peter can't watch as she struggles to acquire the money.

Peter doesn't exactly want to explain all of this so he simply shakes his head.

"Come work with me."

Peter almost chokes on his own saliva.

"Pardon?"

Christina's ashen hair sways as she bobs her head to the beat of the background music. "I'm with Horizon Labs. They looovveee teenage geniuses. Of course, I'll need to make sure all of your prerequisite work is completed along with ensuring that you actually are as smart as I'm guessing. But, to be fair, any assistant of Tony Stark must be a special snowflake."

Peter thinks about this for a second.

It makes sense that being associated with Tony would have a nice effect on him. And since Christina knows of Peter's previous science-related achievements, it's possible she currently thinks very highly of him.

So she wants him to join her in the studies of science.

Horizon Labs.

Was this... Tony's plan?

"I..." Peter thinks hard for a moment, staring unwaveringly at the wooden table they're seated at. Finally, after a solid moment of silence, he raises his head to Christina's level with eye-to-eye contact and says, "I'd like to try your offer out."

xxx

"The pipes are all in place, Banner."

Bruce looks up from his laptop, eyes droopy and somewhat bloodshot. He hasn't slept in several days.

"And the bismuth? Is it with the lutetium already, or-"

"I did that days ago, Brucie. We're all set for the crown jewel."

The sleep-deprived scientist rubs his temple harshly and asks, "Any progress?"

Tony Stark offers an honest smile. "Parker's helping us out with that."

Bruce inclines his head, albeit sleepily, and jots down one final note before closing down the lab for the evening.

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