A/N: So sorry about the silence. I injured my hand and have been babying it, lately. But I'm still here!

OOOOOOOOOO

"You look grumpy…"

King scowled at Victor, who wasn't as close to him as Nicholai had been. They got along well enough, though, and Joel knew that the man would do a good job taking over for his cousin on the west coast.

"Because my back is killing me," he told him. "There's a reason I don't sleep on hotel mattresses." He didn't continue the mini rant – although if it'd been Nick, he probably would have done just that.

Varsto wasn't annoyed, though. He shrugged an apology.

"I heard from the Medical Examiner," he said. "Just now."

"And…?"

"And she said that Nicholai died of a brain aneurism."

'What? How?"

"I guess it could have always been there," was the reply. "That's what she said, anyway. And that it could have ruptured any time. He might have had it for years – even a decade or more."

"Huh. And you believe her?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked. Then his eyes hardened, just a little. "Do you know something I don't?"

"No, Victor." King shrugged, too. "It's just so sudden."

And the timing was so incredible. He didn't say it, though. That was something that he might want to investigate, himself.

"Yeah. They're going to release the body to me, and I'm going to take him home. We'll redo the meeting, later." There were still some discordant people in the ranks that would need to be addressed, but this meeting, it seemed, was just doomed from the beginning. "I'll let you know what date we're looking at for the funeral."

"You do that. Marie will want to be there."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOO

"If you put your finger on the midpoint of A-110 on a guitar string what do you hear?"

There was the briefest of pauses, and then MJ's hand slapped on the buzzer.

"Midtown."

"The next higher A, A-220."

A bell sounded, making the students sitting with her at the table grin – and make soft relieved noises.

"Correct."

"Yes!" Ned's hiss of excitement was barely heard over the polite applause as the room celebrated the win with the team that won the round – while also trying to commiserate with the losing team. In this case England. "Good job, MJ."

The girl's smile was pleased – and slightly embarrassed – as she stood up and offered her hand to the England team captain. Only then did the teams disperse, followed by a reminder that the next round would be in an hour. Peter had been sitting between MJ and Abe and he stood, as well. He shook hands all around with the other team and then turned toward his team.

"You realize we just made the final, right?" Flash asked, looking pleased – even though he tried to hide it behind his normal cynicism. It was the finals, after all. "We don't even need to compete the next two rounds, today."

"But we will, anyway," said their teacher, walking up behind them, looking even more pleased.

"Of course," MJ agreed. "That way we don't get rusty. And we don't start slaking off, either."

She gave her team a definite 'or else' look that made them all grin. They weren't worried about her, and they were all excited about doing so well.

"We have an hour until the next round," Harriman told them. "Don't wander off, okay?"

They all nodded and headed for the door.

"What are you going to do?" Ned asked Peter as they walked into the hallway. Other rounds were ending, also, and there were other teams mingling, as well. "Call Tony?"

Peter nodded.

"And Shuri – once I get the results from the other rounds."

"Is she coming for the final?" MJ asked, curiously.

"She wants to, yeah."

"Better to win the international competition in front of your super genius girlfriend…" Ned said, approvingly.

Peter smiled his agreement and turned to go.

"Don't be late for the next round," MJ told him.

"I won't," he promised.

"And stay out of the elevator," she added, making Ned laugh and Peter roll his eyes – even though they didn't see it.

"I will."

OOOOOOOOOO

"So you won?"

Peter shook his head, smiling at the image of Shuri, who was looking cheerful despite the time of day, her time. He didn't have anyone around him, since he'd dodged into a small broom closet rather than go find the small cafeteria and have to worry about background noise interrupting the call.

"No. We won the round and now we qualify on points for the final."

"So you do not need to play the other rounds, today?"

"We do. MJ and Mr. Harriman already reminded us that we need to do them so we don't get rusty – or cocky, too, I suppose. But the next one doesn't start for almost an hour, so I thought I'd call you and see how you're doing and to let you know what happened."

Which made the young princess smile.

"That is very thoughtful of you."

"Because I'm a thoughtful guy."

Now there was an amused snort. Shuri knew Peter didn't put himself forward, often, and it was always funny when he did or said something like that.

"Let me know the results of the next rounds, please," she told him. "And I will speak with my brother about attending your final."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"Are Tony and Pepper going to attend?"

"They plan on it." He shrugged. "I think they weren't actually saying anything so they didn't jinx it, but I'm going to call them when I'm done talking to you and let them know so they can shift their schedules for tomorrow."

"Then I will let you go," she told him. "I will talk to you, later."

He didn't try to convince her to stay on the call any longer, since he knew she needed to be getting some sleep.

"Good night, my princess."

Shuri smiled.

"Good day, my beloved."

The call ended, and Peter dialed another number.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tony Stark was sitting at his desk talking to Pepper about the meeting they'd just completed and debating if they had time for lunch someplace outside the tower when Friday announced an incoming call from Peter.

The conversation ended with mutual agreement and the display on the desk turned on, revealing Peter, who smiled when he saw them.

"Hey."

Tony frowned.

"Are you in a closet?"

The boy nodded.

"Yeah."

"Are you hiding from someone?" Pepper asked, smiling so he knew she was only teasing and she wasn't really worried about him.

"No. Just looking for someplace quiet to make a phone call."

"Is your morning round over, then?" she asked.

"How did you do?" Tony asked.

Peter's smile widened, and he looked pleased with himself.

"We won."

"Good job."

The boy nodded.

"We've cleared enough points to make the finals."

"That's wonderful," Pepper told him.

"Congrats," Tony added. "Did you call Shuri?"

They both knew that Shuri was keeping track of the competition in order to determine if she should come for the finals. Not worth going to if Peter's team wasn't going to be in them, after all.

"I did. She's going to talk to T'Challa about coming to the final."

"Good. We'll make sure Stephen is available. Tell her to coordinate with Pepper."

Peter smiled when Pepper rolled her eyes – even though Tony didn't see it.

"I will. What are you guys doing?"

"We're deciding where to have lunch," Tony told him. "Want us to come sneak you out?"

The boy was pleased at the invitation but he shook his head.

"I have another round in a while."

"Why? You're in the final."

"Because MJ said so."

His father chuckled.

"You're learning, son. We'll check in with you this evening, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

The call ended and Tony looked over at Pepper.

"Should we be concerned that he looks like he's having a good time being away from us?"

She shook her head.

"I think-"

"You have a visitor, Mr. Stark," came an interruption from his secretary.

Tony scowled, turning toward the door – even though no one was there. Security would have brought a visitor up from the lobby, but they never would have made it beyond the executive reception desk. Which was where Tony's secretary spent most of her work day.

"I don't have any appointments…" he told Pepper. Then he pressed the button on his intercom at the same time Friday was bringing up the security footage of the executive foyer. "Who is-"

He froze, then, and raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell…?"

Standing next to the reception desk with two men standing behind him looking around, carefully, was Joel King.