Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Hello! Hope all are doing well. Here's the next oneshot! Enjoy.

…

The Mother Hen

When Hermione saw Peter walking into the labs bleeding from his head, she as on him before he could say hello. She took him by his arm, walked him to her station and was yelling for Bruce.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, it was nothing," he tried to tell her, but she wasn't having it. "You know you're really good at the mom glare of doom."

"Thank you, but flattery will get you nowhere in this instance," she told him. "Now out with it. What happened?"

"Jameson tried to hit me with his car. And in the middle of that Venom thought it would be nice to help. He did what he does best and threw me towards Jameson's car when I got away." He paused and rolled his eyes. "Four times." He rubbed at his ribs. "Not even my suit helped that last impact with that wall he tossed me against. My ribs are bruised up, but that's about it."

"There's nothing to be done about Venom at the moment. But Jameson is another thing entirely." Temper welled in her eyes until she snapped, "Tony, you need to buy a media conglomerate!"

"Conglomerates are out of date and backwards in their thinking and what the hell happened to you?" Tony stepped up next to Hermione with his attention focused on the young man.

"Jameson tried to run him over and Venom was trying to aid him by throwing him at the vehicle." She looked over to the billionaire adding, "Given what we were told by Fury about keeping our hands-off Venom, we shouldn't go near him. But Jameson, he's another story."

Tony was silent a moment before getting on his cellphone and saying, "We need to buy a media conglomerate, Pep."

…

J. Jonah Jameson walked into his office with a newspaper up to his face, complaining about the lack of story. As a result of this, he missed seeing every single person in his office waiting for him there. He wasn't aware of any of them until the door slammed closed behind himself. The newspaper came down in a snap and soon he was eye to eye with a woman with crazy curly hair and the hardest amber eyes he had ever seen.

"This office is way too contaminated with smoke fumes," Tony said, calling the news producer's attention.

"What are you doing in my office? And get out of my chair!" he yelled, but no one moved.

"You see, it's like this," Tony told him. "I now own The Daily Bugle—the whole ball of wax and not just the website."

Looking at him in alarm, Jamison muttered, "It wasn't for sale."

"Oh, but it was," came from Clint. "You see you've been running at a loss since…"

"2003," Natasha was the one to offer.

"Yeah and the owners have been looking for a way to unload it for the past five years, as the loss has been just so bad as to make them want to keep their gains in the billions rather than the millions," Tony explained. "So I bought it."

Jameson gaped at them all, even as Hermione got up from his chair. Walking over to him, she told him, "Needless to say you are fired and shall not be getting any references, Mr. Jameson. And there shall be an investigation into your employment practices, as well as into your personal life, which shall include your finances."

"You can't do that to me!" he roared in her face.

"Are you being deliberately obtuse or are you truly that idiotic?" Her eyes narrowed. "I said that there would be an investigation not that I was in charge of it." She got into his face, she snarled, "If I were in charge of the investigation, you'd be in cuffs by now."

Sweat was now gathering on his forehead, has he asked, "What for? I don't make the news. I just broadcast it."

She snorted. "It would appear that your spine is just as yellow as your journalism." She looked over to Tony who nodded. "You, Mr. J. Jonah Jameson, are an ass and you'll be lucky to leave with so much as the clothes on your back once the lawyers are finished with you." She walked away from him, adding, "I highly recommend that you gather your things as quickly as possible. You have five minutes to evacuate this building or you shall be helped out of it."

"By you?!" he sneered.

"You are an idiot," she said in a resigned voice.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, his voice hard.

"Because you didn't look at who was in the office with her," Tony pointed out to him. "Who needs security to toss you out when the Avengers are here?"

That's when the older man took the time to turn slowly around, looking at all the people there—everyone of them a superhero and all of them an Avenger. All that is except for the curly haired Brit that seemed to have a stick up her ass about something. His eyes settled on Peter Parker who was there next to two of the biggest sonsofbitches he had ever seen.

"You," he snarled, taking a step towards him. "I should have known!"

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot," Hermione said, handing him a paper. "This is a restraining order. You can't come within a city block of Peter Parker. And you now only have three minutes to pack up."

He yanked the restraining order from her and muttered, "Why?"

"Are you going senile as well as being an idiot?" His icy blue eyes shot over to her. "You know why." She tapped her watch. "Two minutes."

"If this is so final and I can't be near him, why is he here?" Jameson asked.

"I needed to ask you something," Peter said. "What did I ever do to you that you hate me as much as you do?"

Jameson just stood there glaring at him without saying a word.

"Much like I suspected, he doesn't have one," Tony said.

"Come along, Peter," Hermione said to him. "Let's go…"

Jameson tried grabbing her arm, but was soon on the ground moaning and grabbing his crotch.

"What did you do to him?" Peter asked in wonder.

"Kicked him," she answered. "I doubt he'll be able to move from that spot anytime soon. You might as well get your movers in now, Tony."

"Movers? We need no stinkin' movers!" They all turned towards Bruce, who blushed and said, "I always wanted to bastardize that movie line. Sorry."

Wrapping her arm around Peter's shoulders, Hermione assured him that everything would be fine.

"You didn't have to do all that you did for me," he murmured, as they walked over to the elevator.

"How old are you, Peter?" she asked him quietly.

"Eighteen," he answered.

"And you've been in how many conflicts now?"

"More than I care to count."

She nodded to this, telling him, "I was in a war when I was your age." He looked to her sharply. "And you know one of the most important things I learned?"

"What?"

"That although I had to be a part of something big and devastating as I was, I wasn't in it alone." She looked into his so very young eyes and murmured, "This is no different, my boy." She reached over and hit the button for the elevator. "You have friends who have your back—that includes me."

Blushing he murmured, "Thanks."

"Thank me later," she told him. "When we have the footage of Mr. Jameson trying to get into his car that's been hexed to shock him every time he tries to get into it." They stepped into the lift. "Should prove entertaining."

"I'll bring the popcorn!" Peter cheered, laughing mostly to himself.

"And when we're watching it, perhaps you can explain what bae means."

"Before all else," he told her. "You really don't know what that means?"

Blushing she told him, "I'm not completely caught up on modern abbreviated lingo, as I don't text people much and I'm silly enough to use complete sentences when I do."

This had Peter smiling telling her, "You're going to be a great mom one day."

"Really?" she breathed and smiled. Kissing his cheek, she murmured, "You're a pretty excellent kid yourself. I hope I have a few just like you when the time comes."

TBC…

And there you go! Another oneshot is drifting on the winds of the Internet. Thank you for reading and I hope that you're having one heck of an awesome day.