"Who's winning?"

Peter made a face, looking up and slightly over his shoulder as he felt an arm come around him from behind and the brush of coarse facial hair against his cheek when Tony leaned over to study the board.

"She's cheating…"

Romanoff smirked, and played her rook, taking Peter's pawn before he could threaten her king.

"Don't listen to him, Tony," the assassin said. "He's letting me win."

Which wasn't exactly true, but Peter was distracted by Natasha's revelation, and it definitely showed. Not only because he'd look at her every few minutes with a goofy grin that inevitably made her smile, too, but he was also playing poorly – and had lost the first game quickly. Normally she'd lecture him about not allowing distractions to mess with your judgement, or your strategy, but she was in a good mood, and so was he, and there was time enough later for her to give him a lecture.

"How was the pool?"

"Wet."

Stark rolled his eyes and let Peter go, happy to see the smile on the boy's face, all things considered.

"Well, as long as you got wet, I suppose it was a success. Mom's on her way. Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Natasha?"

"I am, but I'm going to eat with Stephen. I was just keeping Peter company until you guys showed up." She smiled at Peter. "We'll finish this later?"

"Okay."

She got up and left, brushing her fingers along his shoulder as she did, while Tony took the seat she abandoned. He watched as Peter put the chess pieces away, studying the boy to see how he seemed to be doing. Considering the whole MJ date thing cut short, he was looking positively cheerful.

"How's the hand?"

"It's not too bad. Aches a little, is all."

"And your head?"

"I'm good."

Peter's smile was proof of that, really.

"I'm glad to hear it."

Tony looked over Peter's shoulder and saw Pepper entering the lounge, and then heading their way. He smiled a greeting to her as she greeted their son with a hug from behind and a kiss to his cheek.

"Hi, sweetheart." Her hand brushed his still slightly damp hair. "How was the swim?"

"Good."

"And the hand?"

"It's fine. What did you guys do?"

Pepper seated herself at the table, and a server brought them all drinks, already knowing what they would want.

"I called T'Challa to check on Shuri," she said. "Since you can't."

"How is she?"

Tony smirked.

"Grumpy. Princesses do not drink vile medications and she will not subject herself to the magic potions of a western witch doctor…"

It was obviously a direct quote. Peter smiled, too.

"Witch doctor, huh?"

"Yes."

"What did T'Challa say?"

"That she would do as she was told, or he'd tie her to her bed and pour the stuff down her throat. Princess or not. Then he reminded her that the alternative was for them to bring in a Wakandan witch doctor and see what kind of concoction he or she might make."

"She's a grumpy patient," Pepper told him, amused. "But Wong's medicine is doing the trick. The cough is already easing."

"Which is why she thinks she can get out of bed." Tony took an appreciative sip of his coffee. "T'Challa's got her, though, he said. Between him and Ramonda they're keeping her occupied when she's awake and making sure she's staying in bed."

"I sent her an email. She said they were holding her prisoner."

Peter's tone made it clear that he wasn't too concerned.

"Probably feels that way, poor baby," Pepper commiserated. Then she changed the subject. "Speaking of bed, though, I want you to make an early night of it, alright? We're going to be leaving around eight and I don't want to have to drag you out of bed."

"Okay." He was looking forward to seeing how the homeschool thing was going to work. And looking forward to having a day with her at the tower – which was always interesting. "Do I need to bring my laptop?"

"No. Just you – for tomorrow, anyway. We'll see what happens and adjust however we need to."

"Sounds good."

OOOOOOOO

The collector looked exactly as he had the last time they'd seen him. He was sitting on a chair that gave him a fine view of many of the items in his collection, but was watching them, intently, as they were ushered into the room by a bowing servant. Gamora, Peter and Carol were the only three who were shown in; Rocket and Drax were with Mantis and Groot back on the Milano, were they would be backup to the others should something go wrong.

Not that they expected it to, but there was a time to be cocky and confident, and a time to be cautious. Dealing with an eternal such as Taneleer Tivan was definitely one of the times to be more cautious. The man's glance at Carol was interested, but guarded – as if he understood that she was more than she appeared to be.

"Star Lord…" the collector said, finally. "Who's your friend?"

Danvers was dressed in leather and denim, with a plain white shirt under the jacket she was wearing. They'd made good time to the Collector's world, but she'd made good use of the journey by asking them more about the man. She knew who he was, but had never met him, and knew that the guardians had.

"Carol Danvers," she said, answering for herself, making sure that the man understood she wasn't a servant or someone to be ignored. "You're the Collector?"

He smiled, and it was almost predatory – but just this side of being such. He didn't know her, after all, and he knew that there were women out there that could be just as deadly as a man – the one standing with Quill (Gamora) being a prime example of that. He'd been around long enough that people had the illusion that he knew everything, but he knew better than to think that, himself.

"Some call me that, yes. You may call me Taneleer."

The look she gave him in return was amused more than anything. He realized that she wasn't nervous, at all, being in his presence, and that made him more wary. Some could pretend to be brave, but he could see that hers wasn't an act. She was confident, and that meant she was probably dangerous.

"We have something of yours," Quill said, cutting to the chase.

"Yes. That's what I heard." Now he sat up a little straighter. "Where is it?"

"Safe," Gamora replied. "We'll tell you once we've agreed just how happy you will be to get it back."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Where did you get it?"

"Does it matter?" She asked.

"Yes." He gestured, and a screen over his shoulder the size of a an entire wall turned on, displaying an image of Sirah, slinking stealthily through a landing bay of some kind, looking around, nervously, as she got into a small shuttle, and closed the hatch behind her. "Considering it was last seen leaving here with one of my servants."

None of the visitors looked concerned.

"We found it," Quill lied, easily.

"And the girl?"

"Never saw her."

"And the boy?" Taneleer asked, raising that eyebrow again, as the scene changed, once more, on the screen and now showed an image of Peter Parker standing at the open hatch, wearing his black vibranium suit and a dark glove that held three stones. His face was pale and pained, but he was calm – especially in light of the fact that Sirah was crying and clearly afraid. As they all watched, the girl gave Peter the stone, and he added it to the gauntlet on his hand, the agony clear as the stone joined the others. "Where is he?"