The first in a series of one-shots about Peter and his new pet!

Tony sighed contentedly as he worked. He had to admit, the vacation home they recently purchased had been a great idea. It was summertime in south Florida, and he and Pepper had bought a Spanish-style home that cozied up to the beach in a quiet, gated community. The change of pace had been just what he and Pepper needed, and he had to admit that the scenery didn't hurt, either. Peter had joined them for the summer and even Happy had flown down for a couple of weeks. Tony secretly treasured the time he had with his whole family under one roof. It was nice to relax and just be together for a change.

Of course, he made sure to have the first floor of the home converted to a lab so he and Peter could tinker. He promised himself that he would finish this weld, and then then he would drag Pepper out of her office, Happy from Downton Abbey and Peter away from his phone and they would all go down to the beach. He was almost done with his latest prototype in Pepper's RESCUE armor...

"Peter!"

Tony stood, suddenly on alert, at the shout from upstairs. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had heard his friend Happy Hogan scream in that high pitched of a voice, and it was never a good sign. Tony dumped his welding helmet onto the floor and ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He reached the top and his eyes widened at the scene in front of him.

Peter Parker stood frozen, crouched slightly with his arms out, panic in his eyes. Opposite of him stood Happy Hogan, wearing the same stance. Instead of panic, the older man's eyes were lit with rage.

In between both of the two, a huge, dirty dog lay on the floor, chewing happily on Happy's sunglasses. The dog was unbothered by all three of them and rolled onto his belly, having found a better position to chew on his afternoon snack.

Happy's face sprouted into angry shades of red, and the man looked like he was absolutely about to lose it. He sputtered angrily and Peter shrank back against the wall.

Oh lord. His sunglasses. There were few things that Happy took pride in in life, and Tony could count them on one hand-his car, his career, and his sunglasses. Giorgio Armani, those were his favorite. Tony knew because he offered to buy him a new pair every Christmas, but Happy would always refuse, insisting that his pair was unique because it was discontinued. You couldn't find this particular model anywhere anymore, and it made the glasses that much more special to him. Tony knew he'd had that particular pair for at least seven years…

As if on cue, one of the lenses popped out of the ruined glasses and clattered on the floor, breaking the silence.

"Peter, is that a police dog-"

"PARKER! My sunglasses-"

"He's-he's not mine! He just followed me!"

Pepper's heels clicked across the floor, cutting through the commotion and tension of the room. She swooped onto the scene and approached the dog, prying the shades out of his mouth. The dog, like the rest of the world, was immediately subdued by Pepper's commanding presence, and gave no protest to giving up the treat.

She turned to Happy. "Go get some air," she ordered. Happy, still red as a tomato, turned on his heel and stormed out the door. They could hear a car engine starting and no time was wasted before they heard tires squeal out of the driveway.

Peter gave a visible slouch of relief as they heard the car fade into the distance.

"I'll have these rebuilt." Pepper scooped the rogue lens off the floor and headed back to her office. Nothing could phase the woman anymore, and she seemed more irritated at anything that her conference call was interrupted. "Tony," she called over her shoulder, "deal with this." Then her office door was shut, and Tony and Peter were left, both staring at the animal in front of them.

It was a German Shepherd Dog, with traditional tan and black coloring across its body. It looked not unlike one of the K9 units that you would see patrolling the city, but dirtier and clearly underweight. You could smell the thing from here, and it panted heavily, drooling onto the floor. It was massive, weighing an easy hundred pounds, and you could almost see the fleas leaping off of its tall ears.

"Peter.." Tony started.

"Ok, so I was walking back from the bodega down the street. They have the best pizza, it's way better than anything I've had back home. And this little guy was sitting in the alley behind the shop, right? He looked hungry so I gave him a pepperoni. He started following me so I played fetch with him with my gatorade bottle, and then he wouldn't stop following me. I couldn't get him to stay and he got into the gate and-"

"First of all, this is Florida, it's a convenience store. Second, I told you not to walk, we have eight cars in the garage. Third," he stopped, sighing. "Little guy?" He arched an eyebrow back at the dog. "Ok, it's gotta go. Say bye to it."

"Wait!" Peter begged. "He's hungry! We can't just leave him. He obviously doesn't live with anyone."

"Peter," Tony warned. "There is an enormous, smelly dog on my nice, clean floor that I want gone in thirty seconds."

"I'll give him a bath!"

"Starting the countdown."

"He's an orphan!"

"29, 28, 27.."

"You didn't throw me out!" Peter begged desperately.

Tony glared. "I'm thinking about it now."

"Just...let me clean him up and feed him then we can bring him to the pound? Just let me give him something to eat."

Tony considered. It was better than the dog hanging around for the next three days while Peter snuck food to him through the gate.

"Fine. One meal, one bath, and it better be an outside one. Then we go to the pound, today. It's your ass if Happy or Pepper sees this dog again."

"Ok Mr. Stark. You got it. Thanks!" Peter ran for the dog and urged it to its feet. As he hurried it out of the room, Tony could hear Peter whisper to the dog, "I'm gonna name you Thor!"

Tony groaned. He had a bad feeling in his gut that the dog wasn't going anywhere.