A/N: Another one! Don't worry, I'll get to other characters eventually. Hope you like it, and maybe let me know what you think? Haha somebody's a sucker for reviews.

Big Sister Nat

"Hi Mr. Stark!" Peter swooped into Tony's workshop and plopped down into the white futon. Tony looked up from a heap of metal scrapings, his brows furrowed. "Sorry, busy day? Don't worry, I won't be long. Is uhm…is Miss Potts here?"

Tony grunted, deciding that his Dum-E can wait. The stupid bot saw it coming anyway, falling down the stairs and smashing itself into a hundred pieces. "Why, what do you want from Pep?" Then he realized Peter was wearing a proper suit and tie, the one you wear to a party in your honor for all the good things you've done for the world, where at the end of the night you go home with a glass trophy you'll forget about in the morning, but in Peter's case it was probably for prom. "You're all cleaned up, where are you going?"

Peter stood up and did a twirl Tony didn't ask for. "Like it? Well, of course you do. You picked it out for me. Thanks a lot, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah well, you're an Avenger now. Got to look the part." Tony straightens Peter's tie, "…I thought prom won't be until next Saturday?"

"Yeah, yeah." Peter nodded, "Well, when I picked up the suit from the tailor—who is awesome by the way, Mr. T—Miss Potts saw me come in with it and she said I'd look so handsome in it, and so I told her about prom and then she asked who the lucky girl was, and so I told her about MJ, she's this awesome girl from school but we're just friends you know, and…"

Tony sighed, "Is this any version of this story where you get to the point?"

"Right, right." He slowed down, collecting his thoughts. "End of story, Miss Pepper asked if I knew how to dance and I thought, wait, I have to dance? And now it occurs to me that of course I do. I've seen hundreds of high school movies and the guy always has to dance with his date otherwise it would be boring."

"You're doing it again, kid." Tony moved to the oversized table slash makeshift bed for emergency naps.

"Miss Potts offered to help me with the dance part. Tonight, because I'll be staying with Aunt May starting tomorrow till finals week. Right…that was my point."

Tony chuckled, "Ah, that's cute. I'm sure Pepper meant to keep that promise but…she's unavailable at the moment. Conference in Milan, won't be home till Thursday. Sorry kid."

"Oh…" Peter slumped, "Of course, yeah. Well it's alright, Mr. T. I'll just…"

"Wait!" Tony perked up, "Natasha, why don't you help the young thing? You know a thing or two about dancing, right?"

Peter looked to where Tony was looking, realizing just then that Agent Romanoff was in the corner of the room, red hair shrouded in a black hooded sweatshirt, trying on gauntlet upgrades. How on earth did I miss that? Then the weight of Tony's proposal dawned on him. "Oh hello, Agent Romanoff. I-I didn't see you there."

"Hmm." Natasha hummed, "You were right, Stark. Needs a lot of training."

"Yeah well, he's only sixteen. There's room to grow." Tony shrugged.

"Took down governments when I was sixteen." She shrugged.

Peter wasn't sure whether it was scary or sad. Maybe a bit of both. "…anyways, it's really okay Mr. Stark, there's still a lot of time and uh…I think May would love to teach me the…"

"Oh I'm sorry, you're passing up the chance to dance with the Black Widow so you can dance with your aunt? Someone hasn't been paying any attention to my life lessons." Tony crossed his arms. Torturing Peter has always been a fun past time but this one was definitely for the books. Poor kid's face was flushed red, stammering to find the right words. He turned to Natasha, who seemed to be enjoying the spectacle just as much. "—oh, his aunt's really smoking—sorry kid, inappropriate—but trust me on this."

"No! No! It isn't like that…it's just…well, here's the thing…"

Natasha chuckled. "Oh quit it, Stark. Poor kid's going to pass out." She threw an arm around Peter, "Come on kid, I'll teach you a few things. Besides, I realized we haven't really hung out together, hmm?"

No, because we only see each other during missions and you're not the friendliest person during missions—Peter thought. But since then, Peter started seeing a whole new version of Natasha. Like yes, she could snap your neck as easy as snapping a celery in half, but she was also the type of person to eat cereal for dinner and watch cheesy telenovelas on the cable to pass the time.

He sighed and said in a low whisper, "…I'd just hate to step on your toes, that's all."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Okay first of all, I think I can handle your baby feet. And you'll do okay, I think. You seem like a natural."

Peter relaxed, smiling just a bit. "Alright. Thank you, Agent Romanoff."

"It's Natasha." She took off her hoodie, revealing a tight tank top with a large "A" printed on it. "Meet me in the living room in five minutes. I know just the perfect song."

He watched as Natasha sprint to the stairs, already feeling the anxiety build up inside him.

"Pfft," Tony ruffled the top of his head, "If I knew any better, and I do, I'd say you were scared of dancing with a pretty girl. A real woman, if I must say. And Natasha Romanoff? Ooh, there's a reason they call her the Black Widow. Can't be that much different from the spider she was named after."

"Hey!" Peter raised his hands, "That's not…okay, fine."

Busted.