Author's Note:

Time for the Wakandans!

XX

"Hello! Kid! Visiting royalty! Let's go!"

"Coming, Mr. Stark!" Peter shouted back, letting FRIDAY convey the message from his bedroom to where his mentor was currently greeting King T'Challa and his contingent downstairs. "Just… one second…" he murmured to himself, unable to set aside the project he was partway through. Yep, even for royalty. There was a sappy line in his head that MJ would've hated―something about prioritizing treating her as a queen over meeting an actual monarch―but Peter mentally webbed it to the wall of his brain so it would shut up and he could just… get this…

There!

With a happy sigh, he sat back on his ass, on the floor of his bedroom. There was a beam of white light hitting his wall and he'd made that happen. Of course, now he had to switch it off, and he was hasty about it, shoving the thing in the back of his closet before trading his wrinkled t-shirt for a button-up and bolting out of his room and his and May's apartment. He bounded down the hall, fastening the last couple of buttons. He was exuberant. Visiting royalty was the perfect cover for his excitement; Mr. Stark wouldn't suspect that he was hiding anything, particularly not a project with such a, uh, private purpose.

Unlike sneaking out of the compound, this was something he'd gotten explicit permission to do. He wouldn't have stolen it from the lab because it was both too important and too conspicuous. It was the projector off one of Beck's busted drones. All of those broken parts―anything above scrap metal―had come back here, to the compound, after he fought Beck in London. At first, Peter had known that Mr. Stark had just wanted to reclaim what he considered sorta his property, seeing as how he'd showcased B.A.R.F. under the Stark Industries brand, but after Beck had decided to be the world's biggest asshole and use his final words to fuck up Peter's whole goddamn life (ok, calm, he thought, stopping himself from hitting the elevator's Door Close button so many times that it jammed), the scraps had become invaluable. Relics of a critical fight. Resources that possibly contained the truth. Even his aunt had jumped into what was not her area of expertise to see if there was any useful data they could extract to help clear his name.

Once they'd found it, the examination of the drone fragments had cooled down; if it wasn't glowing with freaky cosmic energy, Dr. Banner wasn't that into it; Ms. Romanoff preferred coercing and/or punching info out of bad guys to analyzing it out of their tech; Mr. Rogers had come by one time, frowned at the pieces, and just kinda said, "Huh," in a way Peter's mentor had been chipper about telling him meant the old man (Mr. Stark's words) had had no idea what he'd been looking at. Mr. Stark was the only one who stuck with it. Not in a big way, but he'd brought Peter down to the lab a couple weeks ago and asked if he wanted to work on something together. It wasn't mission critical, he'd clarified as Peter automatically thrust back his shoulders and tried to look capable whenever there was an Avengers-y aura about something. It actually wasn't even a mission. It was… Mr. Stark wanting to spend time with him. Apparently, he'd still felt bad about Europe, but Peter could help assuage his guilt (again, not Peter's words) by doing a little tinkering, a little bonding. Peter'd nodded, smiled, and cried in his room later because it was such a dad thing. At the time, they'd gotten right down to work, enthusiastically dismantling and reassembling the thing side-by-side, tools in hand, a schematic (built by FRIDAY in real-time) hovering on a holoscreen. Peter had learned the ins and outs and then―when he'd innocently asked to try his hand at fixing one solo, maybe bringing it back to his room to check out in between doing his homework―repaired one himself. The one sitting in his closet right now because he'd fucking done it!

He laughed to himself under his breath and went bounding down the hall when the elevator brought him to the right floor.

What was that thing Mr. Fury always said? About there being an idea? Well, Peter'd had an idea―a hell of an idea―the other night when he was talking to his girlfriend on the phone. It was her thing with the mirror, which he could see quickly becoming their thing with the mirror because… yeah. Watching her in it while he plunged inside her was pretty incredible. Using the mirror was electrifyingly kinky, but it'd be easy to do anywhere (once he was free to roam again―exile sucked). Her room, his, a bathroom… lots of places had mirrors. Peter wanted to take it to the next level. That was why he'd started asking MJ for specifics on why she enjoyed the mirror so much. If it was just seeing their reflections, well, a mirror was already the best tool for the job. He couldn't perfect a mirror. But she'd told him it wasn't that so much as it was the feeling of the experience, of being surrounded by him. Was there any other way to achieve that? Was it within his power to give it to her? Now it was. He was already halfway there.

With the machine repaired, he'd have to concentrate on programing the fantasy. Yes, fantasy. Peter wasn't going to call it an illusion, like Beck had done, with the intention of deceiving his audience, but he couldn't call it therapy either, like Mr. Stark did, employing it to deal with trauma. His use for it was going to look entirely narcissistic, but really be all about MJ. What he was gonna do was program it to display a holograph featuring versions of himself; he'd need some footage of himself that was going to be super embarrassing to film. It would all be worth it though, the first time he and MJ tried it out. Peter thought he might need Ned's help after all with the programming, as long as he was cautiously vague about what it was for and paid his best friend back for his help. Not literally paid, just did something nice for him. Or, he considered as he followed the sound of Mr. Stark's voice, he could ask the… the princess.

Princess Shuri was standing right there and, holy shit, T'Challa―the king of Wakanda! Yeah, they'd technically fought on the same side in Germany, but they hadn't, like, hung out. Not that they were gonna hang out now. Man, what a thought! Easy, Peter, he told himself.

"Aha! Here he is," Peter was vaguely aware of Tony saying as he waved him forward to shake hands with their guests.

"Just a tip," Dr. Banner whispered as he passed, "don't bow."

"'K," Peter mumbled back, eyes glued to the king. He stopped in front of him and wondered if shaking hands was the right thing to do. T'Challa answered that question for him by offering his. Peter shook it, mouth hanging open until he stumbled out, "Peter… Peter… Parker. Or Spider-Man."

"I remember," T'Challa assured him. "A pleasure."

"Do you have them with you?" his sister asked, the second the king had stepped back from Peter.

"Uh, hi and what?"

"The wrist-mounted devices that discharge the substance you used to relieve Captain America of his shield."

"Oh," Peter said, sighing as he understood. "My web-shooters. No, they're in my room."

"I would be very interested in examining them during our visit," Shuri enthused. She sent T'Challa a judgemental look from the corner of her eye. "My brother was able to tell me so little about them after you met in Germany."

"We were in a combat situation!" the king said defensively. "It was not the right time!"

"If you had a more disciplined mind like I do, you would have been able to easily accomplish both."

"Princess," chastised a woman standing stiffly a couple of yards behind them. Her stance and her clothing told Peter she was a Wakandan warrior, a member of the Dora Milaje.

"It's good for him to be reminded of his shortcomings, Okoye," Shuri told the warrior with a grin. "It will make him a better king."

"This is exactly why I never bring you along," T'Challa said. "You speak impertinently in front of people who do not know you are joking."

His sister rolled her eyes and flipped him off.

Before anyone else could react, Mr. Stark laughed loudly.

"That's the spirit, Princess," he praised. "Remind us not to stand on ceremony among friends."

"Anyone who sees my way of thinking is certainly a friend," Shuri agreed with a sly grin.

"There are a few things I'd like to get your eyes on," Tony said to T'Challa, "before we give up on formalities entirely."

With a nod, the king walked in step with Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner right behind them.

"Will my help be required, do you think?" Shuri wondered. The three of them turned to look at her.

"That depends," Tony said with a shrug. "Do you know anything about―"

"More than you do," she assured him without waiting for specifics.

"Well," he countered, "it's my facility and my stuff, so..." He made a face at her.

"Tony," Bruce said, cringing.

"You are no better than she is," T'Challa informed Tony, pointing to his sister.

"Yeah, and he's no better than me," Mr. Stark added, pointing to Peter, who smiled uncertainly. "Welcome to the compound!"

"I'll leave you to your work, Brother," Shuri said. "I'm more interested in studying the components of Peter's suit."

"Okoye, would you mind accompanying her?" the king requested.

"Don't you think dispensing a member of the Dora Milaje to babysit me is a waste of her abilities and possibly a misuse of your authority?"

"Why must you behave this way?"

Peter watched Princess Shuri pretended to think about it.

"Jetlag," she decided.

The king sighed heavily and left with Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner.

"I'll... go grab my stuff," Peter offered, darting away to give the princess and the warrior a few minutes to bicker without an audience.

A bunch of them were hanging out together (Peter was trying to stay calm) later that afternoon and, while Shuri animatedly explained to her brother what she'd learned about the Spidey suit with Mr. Stark chiming in, Peter had a few unobserved minutes to text his girlfriend. He hadn't wanted to discuss his plan with B.A.R.F. until he was sure it would work. Now, he was sure. After his progress this morning and a ton of helpful insight on holographics from the princess, Peter felt confident that he'd be able to complete his project. It would take a little time, but maybe having MJ in on the secret would spur him on to finish it faster. While also not neglecting his schoolwork, of course.

I love you, he started with. Those visitors that I mentioned might be coming soon are here and that's not even the most exciting thing I have to tell you.

I love you too, she replied. He smiled at his phone. Good, he'd caught MJ after her volunteering shift. In his eagerness and with everything going on today, Peter had forgotten what time she was done. Hurry up and tell me.

He took a deep breath as he began frantically texting her back. He broke it up into multiple messages, but each block of text was still pretty big. She wouldn't mind though. Not once she started reading them. By the time he'd communicated everything, including how much he expected the two of them to enjoy the application of his work, Peter was giddy.

I'll give you some time to think about all that. I'll talk to you later.

When he slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up, Ms. Romanoff was staring straight at him.

"Talking to MJ?"

Peter laughed and pushed his fingers through his hair.

"I'm pretty obvious, huh?"

"It's sweet. How's she doing?"

"Uh, good, I think." Very good once she gets through those texts, he thought. He rubbed his palms nervously on his jeans. "But you saw her almost as recently as I did. When was that, Monday?"

"That reminds me," Ms. Romanoff said without confirming the date. She turned away and addressed Shuri. "Princess, would you be able to help us out with something?"

Shuri paused with her finger leveled at Mr. Stark―they'd been lightly arguing over something while T'Challa strove to keep things civil without chastising his host the same way he chastised his little sister―looked at Ms. Romanoff, and shrugged.

"Ok, Widow." They'd obviously spoken earlier. Shuri moved over to join their group. "I was beginning to get tired of explaining everything to Tony anyway."

"Hey, Pete," Mr. Stark called over, obviously drawn by the sound of his name. "You know who the princess reminds me of, right?"

Peter tried to control his grin. Somebody who'd go toe-to-toe with Mr. Stark, who'd call him out instead of thoughtlessly revering him? Yeah, there was this one girl he knew...

"Speaking of the person Tony was reminded of," Ms. Romanoff began, "I believe she might be in the market for a mace."

"For Mace?" Shuri asked.

"You think I couldn't hook somebody up with a can of Mace if that's what was needed?" the spy teased.

"So you did mean a mace, like the weapon. Just checking." She beamed. "You'd like me to design one? Construct it?"

Ms. Romanoff sat back and casually crossed her arms. She shrugged.

"Both, if you're interested."

"Between the resources here and what we have on the jet, I should have everything I would require."

Peter was confused.

"MJ needs a mace?"

"What woman doesn't?" the Black Widow countered. Yeah, they were on the same side and spiders stuck together, but she still intimidated the crap out of him.

"Did she ask for one?" he tried instead.

"No, but it never hurts to be proactive, especially about your personal arsenal."

This was why they got Captain America to do the school videos. His taglines were a little more... conventionally wholesome. Still, Peter could see that Ms. Romanoff had a point. When he'd started out―just a few short years ago―he'd handmade all of his own equipment. If he'd had the option of having Tony Stark (whom he hadn't yet known) custom-make his suit, suit lady included, he'd have taken it. Getting help was smart, especially when it was help from the best. Shit, did that make it sound like he thought Shuri was the best? With Mr. Stark sitting right there? Thank Thor that Peter's mentor couldn't read minds. He avoided catching his eye anyway.

"You're right," he said. "MJ needs a mace."

"Well now that we have your approval..." Shuri joked. Ms. Romanoff smiled wryly.

"I didn't mean it like that, but before you say it, I know you're messing with me." The princess would definitely get along with his girlfriend.

"I have so many ideas!"

She accessed a holograph through her bracelet (Peter was floored) and began flipping through a veritable catalogue of weaponry. He couldn't tell if these were historic images or a collection of prototypes the princess had designed herself―she navigated through them too quickly. Oh well, the most important thing was that she knew what she was doing. Peter would be happy to consult, or even just watch the mace get made.

"By the way," Shuri asked, holding her wrist out so Ms. Romanoff could examine one of the holographic weapons more closely, "who is MJ?"

More of the team was present for dinner that first evening of the Wakandans' visit. The only two people who were normally around but were currently absent were Happy and Peter's aunt. May'd told Peter earlier that Happy had asked her on a date (which would take place inside the compound) and that it had seemed so important to Happy that, even now that T'Challa's contingent had arrived, they were sticking to their dinner plans. It would be private and romantic and Peter was just glad it wasn't happening in his and May's quarters because he didn't want to return from dinner to see anything that would scar him for life. Well, scar him for life more than everything he'd already dealt with.

At the far end of the table, Shuri and Mr. Barton were brainstorming new functions for his arrows and T'Challa was catching Mr. Rogers up on news of Mr. Barnes. With all of the chatter going on, Peter checked his phone. MJ had replied to his earlier messages. There was a whole string of texts:

Peter, are you serious?

You have to tell me more about the visitors (I'm guessing no names for security reasons?), but I'm not too focused on that right now.

You can do this? Repurpose the projector? You nerd. You absolute nerd. If this is for real...

I reread your texts. So this is for real. How will you control the simulation?

Peter would've stopped reading to consider that question if MJ hadn't already started answering it for him in her next text.

Beck used a headset, right? And he had a display. Would you really need that? You're not monitoring a large-scale simulation or keeping track of dozens of drones, just the one projector. What about a sensor? You could make it small and stick it to your temple or behind your ear or something. That way, the focus of the simulation would follow your line of sight.

Plus, she'd sent a minute later, no headset means you'll look less like a member of a boy band.

What the hell, Parker, MJ had texted after that. He could feel the change in her tone. You're actually gonna do it aren't you? You've already started.

Then, three minutes after that, You make me wanna BARF.

Peter laughed softly, smiling at the phone he held below the edge of the table. He wondered if he should tell her about the mace too, or if that was one thing he could actually keep a surprise. Yeah, maybe surprise her with it, that would be―

He yelped as Mr. Stark snatched the phone from his hand.

"So this is the secret phone, huh?" he asked while Peter panicked. "Mind if I...?"

"Yes! I do mind!"

Tony rotated the phone to look at the screen.

"'You make me wanna barf,'" he read out. Peter's face was burning, but as soon as Mr. Stark touched the screen to scroll up through his texts, it went black, shutting him out.

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and muttered about security and how rude it was to deny him access. In the meantime, Peter held out his hand and Tony placed the phone back in it.

"How old are you?" he demanded.

"Uh, seventeen. You were at my birthday," Peter reminded him, tucking his phone away.

"Seventeen and you're using a piece of tech like that to trade innocent insults with your girlfriend."

Peter exhaled with deep relief. Mr. Stark hadn't guessed at the reference to his Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing; he just thought the word was capitalized for emphasis. That it was MJ hurling an insult. He held back a laugh.

"You say that like you haven't done far stupider things with your tech," Ms. Romanoff commented. She threw Peter a discrete wink that told him she was consciously interfering to rescue him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tony retorted, then drew his chair closer to Pepper's, shunning the spiders.

"Thanks," Peter mouthed to Ms. Romanoff.

"For what?" she mouthed back.

He snorted and went back to eating until Princess Shuri came over to discuss the mace.

Author's Note:

So, we know what'll be keeping Peter busy while we get back to MJ's POV! She'll definitely be considering what Peter told her in the back of her mind, but it might not be enough to combat some jealousy issues.

To be continued...