/Wow, wow, wow. That last chapter got a little deep, so here's some nice and short plot/relationship building fluff! Enjoy!
It only took a moment of the obscenely loud alarm blaring for Sam to be heard throughout the entire compound. "Clint I swear-"
"It's not me!" Clint yelled back before the younger Avenger could come for his life.
Pressing the buzzer from the kitchen, Sam replied, "Stark?"
Tony threw down his soldering iron and pushed his wheelie stool away from his desk in frustration. "First of all FRIDAY, we need to change that alarm ASAP. I'm tired of having to re-solder circuits every time I flinch. What's going on up there?"
"There appears to be a large and highly populated ship entering the atmosphere, Boss."
Naomi squinted at the flashing lights illuminating her room and blearily rolled out of bed onto the ground. Her door squeaked open slightly as Steve poked his head in. Seeing her on the floor, he entered clad in his uniform and signature eyebrows of disappointment.
"Can I come with?"
Entirely ignoring Naomi, Steve replied, "Were you asleep?"
"Steve-" Wow, this man takes me back. It's like I'm being scolded by my dad again.
"It's one in the afternoon, Naomi." It's not that Steve was trying to be strict, but his own tired teenager years were a distant scrap of a memory. He had long since transitioned into tired old man years.
Alright, I'm done. I'm leaving. I guess I'll be homeless. And I am somehow taking this mattress with me because WOW that thing is comfy. "Steve! Flashing lights; Avengers mission..."
Steve couldn't even address her question directly. He was on strict instructions to not give in to her superpower of persuasion. "Will you be ok here on your own?"
"I want to go."
"Last time Clint nearly beat our asses."
Naomi paused. Clint was pretty pissed from what she remembered. "I can be useful," she signed delicately.
"I know. Not this time. I'm sorry."
"So I woke up for nothing"
"It's. One. O'Clock," Steve replied exasperated. Kicking a pillow at her, he turned to leave.
"Be safe." Steve nodded and jogged to rejoin the team.
Peter entered the compound, literally dragging his bag of textbooks up the steps. His super strength was no match for the crushing burden of high school. "Helloooo?" Of the many things the Avengers are, quiet was never one of them.
A tap on the shoulder startled him out of his confusion. "Shouldn't you be with the Avengers?"
Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "...Doing what?"
"...The emergency siren that went off a couple hours ago…", Naomi trailed off with an uncertain laugh.
"The what- I didn't get alerted! I should've received a notice! Karen, call Mr. Stark." The ringing phone seemed to purposely mock him.
Finally, "Hey kid, how was school?" An explosion in the background briefly cut out the audio. The connection resumed to the sounds of civilians and Avengers yelling.
"I think I'm failing AP Lit and I want to drop out," Peter deadpanned. "Are you guys good? Should I come help?"
"Pete, you have a 92 in that class. We're just doing peachy here, though." Another explosion echoed. "-just wrapping things up-" Natasha was heard calling for help. "-super trivial and boring fight; probably below you; anyways I gotta get back to it. Get something to eat."
"But Mr.-" Peter sighed. Grabbing a notepad, he jotted, "He hung up on me."
Naomi snorted. "Yeah, I got that. So why didn't your thing work?"
"I'm not sure...want to come to the lab and poke around in the code?" It wasn't the first time Peter was "invading" Tony's work, and it most definitely wouldn't be the last. Mr. Stark's work was amazing and crazy cool, but what's the use if he hides it away?
"Obviously dude."
"BYOD RED PROTOCOL!? What?! He disabled my coms during school hours; that's so unfair!" Not understanding the reference, Naomi questioned with a cock of her head. "BYOD was the system American teachers used in junior high to monitor phone usage- red means devices are 'turned off and put away'."
"That sounds excessive."
"It was. Well I'm turning that off. Anyways, do you want to build something? I'm between projects right now and I'm desperate for ideas."
"Not unless you can make me a suit so that I can go on missions with you guys."
"Suits are Mr. Stark's territory, but we should totally make you some Men in Black-esque gadgets. What sorta superpower were you thinking?"
"Ok-" Naomi took a deep breath and held it. "I've been thinking about this a lot: super speed."
Peter hopped up onto the workbench and crossed his legs. "Like Pietro?"
"Who?"
If Tony hadn't told her, Peter definitely wasn't going to get in the middle of it. "Never mind. That sounds so fun though! So the suit will have to possess the speed-time-altering-thingy. Maybe we could make some sort of deployable thing as you're being super speedy."
Naomi slowly nodded as she read the text, gaining inspiration word by word. "Yeah, and they would have to be stable at high speeds, but also time sensitive. Like, an explosive would need enough activation time for me to get away, but go off quickly. Only a fraction of a second." I'd also prefer no bombs, she wanted to add.
The two continued like a game of Pong, picking up pace as ideas ricocheted back and forth between them. Their combined technical knowledge and dorky imaginations could give the science bros a run for their money. The workshop had no windows or clocks (thank you, Tony's insomnia), so it was anyone's guess what ungodly hour of the night/morning the teens worked to.
Tony shuffled into the den in his permanently exhausted state. "Peter! Nao- wait, never mind. Pete!" The battered Avengers grumbled at his noise. The fight had been annoyingly difficult for the enemy to be some unimportant aliens.
Rhodey punched Tony in the arm. "Dude, it's 2 in the morning. They're probably asleep."
"Time has no meaning to me anymore," Tony replied to the dark abyss.
Rhodey glanced towards Clint, already passed out on the couch. "Yeah, well it does for some of us."
"FRIDAY, where are the kids?"
"They are in your workshop, Boss." Tony was unsure whether to be proud or concerned that his children were so similar to him as he descended to the garage.
The elevator doors opened to reveal even more of a mess than normal, topped off with two slumped over figures. Their heads rested on makeshift pillows made from oily rags, looking like high schoolers sleeping in class. It reminded Tony of the strange normality of the other half of their lives- especially Peter. Teens: sleep deprived, energetic, intelligent, dumbasses. He quietly walked around, surveying the countless design sketches and endless notepads used for communication. It looked like their ideas were just crazy enough that they might work with the right integrated tech. Tony smiled and turned off the lights, save for a small desk lamp in the corner.
