"Wait… he just walked into your apartment?"

"According to the security footage Jarvis showed me, yeah. Opened my door and walked right in about 45 minutes before I did. I didn't even notice him."

"That's a little creepy. Why didn't Jarvis tell you he was there?"

"Because he's being too literal."

"You don't lock your door?"

"Of course I lock my door, Pepper. It's a code."

"Then how did he get in?" she asked, curiously.

"He keyed in the code – guessed it on the first try."

"Really?" she frowned. "It isn't 1,2,3,4… is it?"

Stark rolled his eyes.

"No. But it isn't that hard to guess. I don't need passcodes to keep people out. I have Jarvis."

"And he does such a good job. Did you figure out who he is? I mean, if he's eight, then he's probably not some kind of nefarious burglar, is he?"

"No. Not as far as I could find." Tony didn't have to look at any notes. He had an excellent memory. "Peter Parker. Eight years old. Parents died in a plane crash and he was left to his aunt. Until she was caught using him to calculate betting odds for her bookie and was sent to jail a few months ago – and he was sent to a foster home, since she's his only relative."

"When does she get out?"

He frowned.

"She doesn't. She was killed by her roommate a week in. Apparently, she wasn't as slick as she thought she was and made the wrong person angry."

"Oh, my."

"Yeah. He'll be in foster care for another nine or ten years. Or when he graduates, whichever comes first."

"So in nine or ten years."

Tony shrugged.

"He's pretty smart. At least all the records JARVIS got hold of say that he is."

Tony had the AI digging a lot deeper than anyone else would be able to go, thanks to his interface with all things related to the web and the Stark network.

"How smart?"

"Speaks other languages, does high school level calculous and has an IQ higher than any I've ever seen. Including my own," he added, reluctantly.

"At eight?"

"Yes. They have him in a special school – on scholarship – and he's been in it since he was three."

"That's incredible."

"He probably gets beat up a lot, too," Tony said, shrugging. "He's not a very big guy – even for eight."

OOOOOOOOO

"Wait… you saw Tony Stark?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. What was he like? Was he in the Ironman suit? Did he fly in? Were you-"

"He was on his couch, kissing some woman," Peter interrupted. "It was gross, Ned. She was making these noises, like you see in the movies, and-"

"He was making out?" The older boy looked impressed. "What did she look like?"

"It's not important. I-"

"Eat up, guys," Eric's cheerful voice interrupted their conversation, and Peter, Ned, and the other four boys around the table all turned their attention on the hearty breakfast that was on the table.

"Did Peter really see Tony Stark last night?" one of the other boys asked.

"He did," Tatro confirmed. "And he's in a lot of trouble because of it. So I don't want any of you getting any bright ideas about trying it. Understood?"

The other boys were all older than Peter – and Ned – and they were looking speculatively at the smallest of them. Peter knew the look. In the few months that he'd lived in the group home that Eric and his wife ran, some of the older boys and come and gone. The majority were okay, but there always seemed to be one or two that were bullies of one sort or another, and they loved to single Peter out to tease or torment. They were well aware that as small as he was, he didn't have a chance against any of them separately, and certainly not if they ganged up on him. He'd been pushed around a little from time to time – usually because they didn't like that he was smarter than they were and went to a private school – but they hadn't actually hurt him. Peter backed away whenever they started in on him, and made himself scarce.

They assumed it was because Peter was afraid of them and didn't want them to hurt him, but Peter had a secret, and he knew that nothing any of the boys – even the teenagers – could do could really hurt him. At least, not physically. Being teased wasn't fun, though, and he knew he was sensitive – especially about being pretty much an orphan, now.

He stood up, grabbing a piece of toast and wrapping it around a sausage link.

"I need to go," he said, quickly. "I want to do some research before school."

"Want me to drive you?"

"No. I'll take the bus. Thanks."

Eric looked at him.

"Right home from school. Understand?"

"Yes."

He left, then, and as he walked to the bus stop, he pulled out his cell phone. It was a dinosaur, but he was lucky to have one at all, and Peter had tweaked his a bit, adding unlimited data to his plan, and amping up the processor to make it faster. He had to go to school, but he had a large block of free study time after lunch, and after a quick search, he knew where he might find Tony Stark during that time.

Maybe he'd have a chance to get him alone to actually talk to him, this time.

OOOOOOOO

The restaurant was an outdoor one. Not very common for Tony, who definitely preferred to eat out of the public eye. Unless, of course, he was showing off. Which was the case. The senator had asked to meet with him, and since he'd asked nicely, and he wasn't one of the many that Stark just couldn't stand on sight, he'd agreed. When they'd met at the restaurant, however, and the senator's aide had tried to usher Tony into a small and very private room (probably to try and get some kind of concession out of him – or maybe ask him to show up at his kid's birthday party) Tony had scowled, mentioned that it was a lovely day and had walked out to the outdoor seating area. Which left the senator with a choice of coming to him, or eating alone.

Not surprisingly, he'd joined Stark at his table and Tony hadn't bothered to hide the smirk when he'd seated himself.

The meeting had been a request for some information on one of the many mergers that Stark Industries was involved with. Tony was bored almost immediately, and not bothering to hide it. Only the fact that he was in the limelight was keeping him from excusing himself and going back to his workroom to start on the newest version of his suit, instead.

He was halfway through his lunch (which wasn't too bad, he had to admit) when the senator suddenly stopped his endless droning.

"Don't look now, Stark, but I'd say you have a fan…"

The billionaire followed his gaze and actually felt himself do a double check when he saw the same kid that had been in his apartment the night before standing close to the outer perimeter of the patio area, hands on the metal railing and swinging on them lightly, but eyes never leaving Tony's form.

"Son of a… are you kidding me?"

"You know him?"

"What? No. I'll be right back."

The billionaire tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. He walked over to Peter and scowled down at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching you."

"Yeah. I see that. Go home."

"I'm supposed to be in school…"

"Then get your little butt to school, before I call a truant officer."

"They don't have them, anymore."

"Don't be a wiseass."

The boy hesitated, hearing the annoyance in the man's voice and easily reading it in his features. Now wouldn't be the time to ask a favor from him, would it? He felt his face flush, heatedly.

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't do one-on-one interviews. Now go home. Or to school."

"But-"

"Go, Peter, or I'll call a cop."

Tony turned and walked back to the table without a second glance, and Peter watched him go. The boy wasn't sure what to do, next, and his uncertainty must have shown in his expression. A passerby stopped, kneeling down next to him, and put his hand on his scrawny shoulder. Peter didn't know the man, and something inside him was beginning to tingle; a warning that he needed to not be where he was.

"Are you lost?" the man asked, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looked around, and his smile not at all sincere. More predatory, although Peter didn't understand the odd look – or why it made him uneasy. "Let's go find your mom."

"No. I'm fine."

His unease was more of an impetus to make him move than Tony Stark telling him to get lost. He moved away, quickly, running down the sidewalk and vanishing easily, like he did so well, nowadays. He hadn't handled that well, either, but something inside him told him it didn't matter. He didn't understand obsession, and didn't know why he was so determined, but he needed to talk to a superhero, and that was going to have to be Tony Stark.

"Who was he?" the senator asked, curiously.

He'd been able to watch the interaction, but not hear what had been said.

Stark shrugged as he sat down.

"Just a fan. You were right."

The senator had been watching the boy, still, and had frowned when the man knelt down beside him. He didn't hear the exchange between those two, either, but Tony saw concern in his expression, and turned to look back that direction. Just in time to see Peter take off at a quick run, and a man standing up and watching him go.

He frowned, too, feeling just the slightest sliver of concern. As if the man was aware of their contemplation, he turned and walked away – the opposite direction that Peter had gone. Tony turned back to the senator, allowing the moment to pass.

"You were saying something about wanting in on the ground floor of the merger…?"

"What?" the politician jerked his attention back to the billionaire. "Oh. Right. What will it take?"

Stark shrugged.

"Talk to Pepper Potts. She'll be able to give you more information about that side of things."

He turned his attention back to his lunch, and listened to the senator drone, once more.