Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Marvel Studios, Disney, and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: This chapter is wrapping up some things, introducing some other things. I was not expecting a certain character to show up this soon (it wasn't even supposed to happen in this story), but...I kind of loved this introduction versus what I had originally been planning, so there you go. Feels a lot more in-character for them.

Chapter title comes from A Fifth of Beethoven by Walter Murphy, and is in a three-way tie with More Than A Woman by the Bee Gees and If I Can't Have You by Yvonne Elliman for my favorite song off of the Saturday Night Feversoundtrack. Next chapter...I'm a little undecided on. I'm 90% sure of what it's going to be, but I have some doubts I'm going to want it to remain that way after I finish writing it. Idk, we'll see.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Until next chapter,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~primis, omega, superhero, genius~

~somebody to love~

~chapter 32: a fifth of beethoven~

Two weeks.

(Less than that, really.)

Her next day of work at the diner, Penny turned in her one week's notice.

Jason blinked owlishly in surprise when he saw it, his mouth twisting in a way that was obviously bittersweet. It made her wring her hands nervously. "I'm sorry I can't give you the two weeks' notice like I should," she apologized. "I know it's customary, but – "

"You're Spider-Woman," he finished for her, since it was before opening and the only ones around in the entire restaurant were them. "Don't worry, I get it. I mean, I'll be sad to see you go 'cause you're the best server we've ever had – "

"Jason," she complained lightly. She knew that couldn't be true, given her sometimes spotty attendance due to being a superhero.

He ignored her protest with, "But this has been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, it has."

When Bélen came in a few hours later, the entire restaurant went silent as they heard an ear-splitting shriek from the back. Within seconds, the owner of the diner appeared in the front, grabbed Penny by the wrist from where she was at the drinks' station, and pulled her into her office. "Penny, you're quitting?" she cried out, closing the door behind them.

Penny cringed. "Yeah..."

"¿Por qué, Perdida? Was it something that we did? Please, tell me it wasn't something that we did!"

"No, no, it's not you." She patted Bélen's arm, cringing even more at the cliché words that were going to come out of her mouth next. "It's me. I, um – I can't really explain what's going on – "

"Does it have to do with your...other job?" the alpha asked, her eyes flitting over to the door.

"Kind of. Not really. It's complicated," Penny admitted. "I can't get into it. But I just want to thank you, Bélen, for letting me work here despite...you know, everything. The past two years, working here has kept me alive." In more ways than you can know besides the financial ones. "You didn't have to let me continue working here after my first no-show back in February, especially not with what you and Jason figured out and how I didn't really need to work here anymore after that, but you did anyways. So, thank you."

Bélen's expression softened from the panicked one she had been wearing. Her eyes became watery. Without warning, she pulled Penny into a bone-crushing hug, making her squeak in surprise. Sure, she was enhanced and had super durability, but damn, Bélen was strong for somebody who was not. "Oh, please don't thank me. It was the least I could do after everything you have done for us. You're welcome," she said. Pulling away, she wiped at her eyes. "And if you ever need a job again, for whatever reason, you come back here, sí? You'll always be welcome here, Penny, I promise."

"I will."

On her last day of work at the diner, Bélen surprised her after she turned in her apron and other work-related things she needed to do the same with by giving her a giant basket. "This is for you," she informed her. "My wife made them."

Penny opened up one of the lids to peek inside. The smells of a variety of different Mexican foods hit her – tamales, sopapillas, dulce de tres leches cake, cocadas, and more. Her face paled and flushed at the same time. "Bélen, this is too much!"

"For others? Maybe. For you? No. And you know how Silvia is, she'll be heartbroken if you don't take these," she added the last part with a smile.

She'd only met Bélen's wife a couple of times, but she knew she was right. Silvia took great pride in her cooking, even though she had no interest in working at any restaurant. And her food was practically to die for.

"Alright, alright," Penny relented. "Tell her I said 'thank you.'"

Bélen kissed the air next to each of her cheeks. "Goodbye, Perdida."

"'Bye, Bélen."

On the subway ride home, she took out a couple of baby wipes from her purse – she supposed it was true that omegas always had everything in their purses, or at least it was a lesson many of them learned to do – and wiped them at her face and her neck. It wasn't against Bélen, it wasn't even against her mates. But Penny wanted to make sure there would be no risk of anything happening. Alphas on their own could be territorial, if not possessive outright. When they were the soulmates of an omega serving as their primis...there wasn't any evidence to suggest they would be extraordinarily so, given that she was the first omega primis in 100 years (she knew – she'd checked), but still. She didn't want to risk anything.

This past week, for the first time since Harry, she felt like she'd been living on Cloud Nine. Tony, Steve, Clint, and Natasha had all been great. They'd respected her boundaries, in spite of how some might have said her boundaries were ridiculous, given that within two to three weeks, she'd be going into heat and all of those boundaries would be flying out the window. Everything had been just on the cusp from PG to PG-13. If they'd spent the night in her bed, since not all of them had been for the same nights, they watched her change with her back to them. They cuddled with her, too...and kissed her, but nothing more than that, including make-out sessions.

Natasha was the second one to kiss her on the lips after Clint. The third night after the big reveal, it had been only her and Clint in Penny's bed, Tony going back to working the nights in his lab and Steve pretty non-discreetly giving them (read: her) space. Penny had been exhausted from her day at work and patrol, so the two alphas had sandwiched her between them while they'd watched TV. When she'd yawned, Clint had chortled and said, "You ready to go asleep?"

"Yeah...but leave the TV on." She'd gotten used to sleeping like that since February.

Clint had kissed her forehead, then made a quick pass to her lips. Natasha had foregone her forehead completely. It had been a chaste and sweet kiss, but enough. Penny had abruptly felt like putty in her hands.

(In the morning, she'd woken up to her nose buried into Natasha's mating gland, inhaling her patchouli and gunpowder scent. Her thighs had been coated in slick. Neither Clint nor Natasha had commented on it, though.)

The morning after that one, while she'd been making herself some coffee on the communal floor, Tony had come up behind her. He'd put his hands on her shoulders and, having moved her around a little, said, "'Morning, Pen," before he'd kissed her on the lips, too.

Theirs had lasted a bit longer than hers with Natasha's, only having been interrupted by Bruce clearing his throat and saying, "Excuse me, guys," while heading for the coffeepot.

Penny had been more than a little embarrassed at the realization they'd been engaging in PDA, but Tony had winked at her and grinned. "Sorry, Brucey-bear," he'd said, completely unrepentant.

Steve had been the last. She wasn't sure if the timing was intentional on his part, because it hadn't been on hers – at least, not necessarily. It'd happened the same day Tony had kissed her: that afternoon, she'd found Steve in Bruce's greenhouse garden, once again drawing. "Hey," she'd greeted him. "What are you drawing?"

A glance down had answered her question even before he'd spoken. She'd seen the sharp jaw, prominent cheekbones, and dark hair, and known it had been Bucky Barnes.

But along with the realization had come something else –

(Dark brown hair, longer, shoulder-length. A sharp jaw, so similar to Barnes'. Prominent cheekbones. The smell that wasn't of nitroglycerin, because she knew what nitroglycerin smelled like, and it wasn't...)

She hadn't been able to think about it for long, as Steve had looked up at her. "Bucky," he'd said, smiling.

"Has anybody told you what a good artist you are before?"

His ears had tinged pink. "Sometimes. I wouldn't say I'm that good."

She'd rolled her eyes.

When Penny had looked back down at him, she hadn't been able to resist. Having leaned down, she'd taken the initiative this time and kissed him. It had been just as chaste as the others', but the expression on his face when she'd broken it off had let her know it'd more than been worth it.

They were easing into things. Although she'd told them even more extensively than she had Harry about her heats worked – and she just wanted to mention, the arousal levels in the room then had been ridiculous. Yeah, it was nice to have had it reiterated how wanted she was, however it was still overwhelming for her to think about, too – they understood she couldn't immediately fall into bed with them. She was still dealing with having been touch-starved for so long. She was still trying to wrap her head around how a relationship with four different people was going to work even when jealousy wasn't really a factor.

...And, admittedly, she was once again waiting for that hammer to fall.

Because things had been almost too good for the past week, and it was hard for her to believe they could be that way without a catch involved.

Getting back to the Tower, she went up to her personal floor to quickly change into some more comfortable clothes, then took the picnic basket and went down to the communal. She was unsurprised to find Clint and Natasha there but no one else. Tony was probably either in a meeting or in his lab with the latter almost being definitive for Bruce, Steve was most likely in the gym, and Thor had already headed back to Asgard. He'd assured them all that he would be back long before the amount of time between the Battle of New York and this last visit of his could pass, which she figured was accurate – if only because of Jane Foster.

(Kidding. She knew he liked them all, saw them all as his shield-brothers and -sisters.)

Clint and Natasha were in the kitchen part of the floor, eating lunch, which was just perfect for her. "Hey, Penny. How was wor – ?" he began, stopping as he caught sight of the basket in her arms. "What do you got there?"

"Work was fine," Penny said, answering his first intended question. "Kind of bittersweet, since it was my last day, but fine. And as for this...my boss' wife decided to make me a going-away package, I guess."

Clint connected the dots. His mouth dropped open. "She made you a basket's worth of food?"

For a non-enhanced person, she swore he had a bottomless pit for a stomach.

"Yeah. And I am willing to share, but not just with you," she warned with the last part.

"Do you want help putting stuff away?" Natasha asked, sliding out of her stool at the bar counter.

Penny nodded, relieved.

There was a lot of food, way more than the average person could ever be expected to eat by themselves. Many of the dishes were in Tupperware containers; she made it a mental note to make sure she cleaned them out and then shipped them to the restaurant. She knew that Bélen would probably insist that the Tupperware was hers to keep, but with Tony Stark as one of her soulmates, she could get Tupperware for herself. Hell, if she asked him to buy a third-world country for her, she knew he'd figure out a way to do it.

She hoped money wasn't going to be a problem for them like it had been for her and Harry sometimes.

The entire time they were putting things away, Natasha's touch kept on ghosting along her fingers, her hands, her wrists, and her upper arms. It was enough to send shivers down Penny's spine as well as a familiar twinge in her stomach. She almost told her to quit it when the elevator dinged, mindful of Bruce, but it was only Steve. His hair was damp from the shower. "What's all the food from?" he inquired.

"My boss' wife made it for me," Penny responded for the second time.

He stared at the assortment still on the counter. "All of that?"

"There's more in the fridge," Natasha informed him.

"Wow," Steve said. He came over and pressed a kiss to Penny's cheek, making her smile. "Do you mind if I have some?"

She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "That's entirely the reason why I brought it all down here, Cap."

The four of them – Tony was indeed in a meeting for his company – ate lunch together, Clint and Natasha eating the sandwiches they'd made along with some of the food Silvia had made for her. It was all absolutely divine. There wasn't a semblance of the taste of ash in her mouth.

Of course, after she was finished and cleaned up her plate, it was time for her to go on patrol. Before she left, she echoed Steve's earlier action, kissing them all on the cheek. "I'll see you for dinner," she promised. The past week, she'd been coming back to the Tower for dinner instead of staying out for patrol until ten or eleven and eating something quick while doing so. Bruce was right: she needed to get her weight up if she didn't want to have a feeding tube on the other side of her heat.

They all told her their goodbyes, so off she went.

One week.

Four days before the effects of her suppressants were to wear off completely, Penny was spending her night on patrol. It had been a good night so far, both in terms of the weather and the people. The snow had melted into a more moderate amount due to the time that had passed since the last bad snow storm, and the only crimes she'd had to stop so far were the petty kinds. The rapists and murderers didn't seem to be out tonight – or if they were, they weren't being dealt with by her.

God have mercy on the souls that came in the path of that new guy on the streets. The Punisher, she thought his name was? She'd thought about meeting up with her himself so that she could say, you know, while she could understand where he was coming from, brutal murders weren't a way to go about protecting the city, but she'd held off from that. Chances were, Daredevil was already on his tail, and that said it all.

Sitting on the roof of a low-rise to take a short break, she wasn't surprised when she heard a familiar whirring sound. Tony had mentioned offhandedly multiple times in the past week and a half that he'd been thinking about joining her on patrol like Steve and Natasha had before. The only thing she was surprised by was that it had taken this long.

"Hey, To – " she began to say as she turned around.

Except, it was not her alpha.

"Sorry, I'm not Tony Stark," the...guy – they sounded like a guy, at least, but with voice modulators, that didn't really mean anything – said. He sounded amused, and his head was tilted to the side. But she couldn't see his facial expression, due to his face plate. "Don't worry, Spider-Woman, I come in peace."

Having already scrambled to her feet, she got into a loose, though not obvious, defensive stance. Her spider sense wasn't going off currently, giving credence to the guy's claim, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. "Who – who are you?" she breathed.

The guy was wearing a suit that was eerily similar to Tony's – which raised the question of just how he had made it or who had made it for him, because Tony had always been adamant about how no one else except for Rhodey could have his suit technology, but she digressed. There was an arc reactor in the middle of the chest of his suit, smaller than Tony's, yet shining brightly nonetheless. The only real differences in his suit besides that were the overall more basic components (the metal was thinner on his arms and legs), the coloring, and his face plate.

That damned face plate.

"I'm a friend," the guy said. He didn't sound like he was from New York; his accent was different. As she didn't react to his claim, she heard him snicker. He raised his hands in the air briefly, showcasing his repulsers. "Look, seriously, I'm here to help you."

"Me," she repeated blandly.

"The Avengers," he corrected himself. He reached up to presumably scratch the back of his neck, then, realizing that he couldn't do that because of his suit, brought his arm back down. "I thought approaching you on your patrol would be easier than talking to the rest head-on."

She squinted her eyes. "Why?"

"Because I'm not really interested in SHIELD finding out my identity," he told her bluntly. Ah. She could get that. "And I have my own reasons for that. But I've found out some information that you guys need to know."

Penny felt her curiosity pique. "What information?"

He tapped at one of the side panels on his torso and opened it. Something popped out, which he threw at her: a USB flash drive. She caught it in midair and examined it. The USB drive itself wasn't anything special, the kind you could get at pretty much any store these days.

"I was messing with radio frequencies one night, came across one that was weird. High Frequency," the guy explained. "I realized the transmissions were in code. It took some time for me to figure out, but when I did...I'm pretty sure it's HYDRA."

Her blood ran cold. "HYDRA?"

"Yeah," he replied without missing a beat. "It took me too long to figure out the last big message to prevent that bomb at the Avengers gala. Sorry about that, by the way. Give Captain America my regards. But I figured out this one ahead of time. There's going to be another attack on the 14th. Grand Central Terminal."

Fuck. That was a lot of people.

What was HYDRA trying to do here? She didn't get it. Had they decided now that the Avengers knew about them and how they'd never really gone away it was time for all-out war? That didn't make sense. Their whole shtick was that they wanted to remain in the shadows. There had to be something more going on here.

"Do you know how they're planning to attack it?"

The guy shifted his feet. "Sorry, no. I'm good, but I'm not that good. They didn't mention anything about it."

She tried a different tactic. "How do I know that I can trust you?"

His snort was audible. "How do I know that I can trust you?" he returned. "I know, I know, you're Spider-Woman. You've protected this city for, what? Almost eight years now? But you're also a certifiable black hole. You're the only Avenger that we – as in, the general public – know nothing about, and your SHIELD file isn't exactly spilling your secrets, either."

Penny spluttered. "You've hacked into SHIELD?"

That wasn't supposed to be possible! Sure, Tony had done it, but he was Tony. He had JARVIS and way more resources than this Dollar Tree™ Iron Man did. But not even Tony could've hacked into SHIELD without them noticing, which is what she assumed this guy had to have done, considering there had been no mention of him by Fury yet.

The Dollar Tree™ Iron Man shrugged. "Please, it wasn't that hard," he said. "And I thought you'd be glad. SHIELD doesn't know anything about you."

She would've been, had she not known better.

He pressed on. "Outside of your experience and the fact that you're an Avenger, I don't know anything about you. You don't know anything about me. But I'm coming to you with this now, because I figure the Avengers will be willing to help me out on this. I mean, I could try to stop HYDRA on my own on Tuesday, but I'd rather not die then, you know? I've got a family, a little sister that needs me."

She could understand that.

"We'll be there," she promised.

She thought it got a smile out of him, though obviously she couldn't say for sure. But it sounded like it was in his voice as he said, "Good. There's some more stuff on that flash drive that might interest you and the rest of the Avengers. There's more where it came from too, but...I'm gonna be real, Spider-Woman, I don't know who to trust yet. If y'all help me out with this, though, I might be willing to reconsider."

Oh, he definitely wasn't from New York, saying things like "y'all."

"I should probably be going now," he spoke. He turned around, aiming his repulsers so he could take off...and fry the rooftop in the process. If she'd had any reason to doubt that he was new at this, she didn't now.

"Wait." Penny took a step forwards. "Can I at least have a name? 'Cause if you're gonna be working with us to stop this attack, the press is gonna take notice of you. You might wanna get in front of the name-thing now before they make one up for you."

"Hm...you're probably right." There was mischief shining in the bright lights of the eyes of his face plate, she knew it. "Would Stark be too upset if I named myself 'Iron Lad?'"

She didn't get a chance to respond. As soon as he spoke the words, he fired off, quickly disappearing into the night.

Bafflement flooded her system.

"Iron Lad," she muttered. "What kind of name is 'Iron Lad?'"

Penny looked down at the flash drive still in her hand. She rolled her thumb over it, processing the short but insane conversation she'd just had. There was yet another new guy "on the block," this one with a suit that looked like Iron Man's and a name that indeed was probably going to annoy the hell out of Tony. He'd somehow found a secret radio station that HYDRA was using, which had let him know there was going to be a terrorist attack in a couple of days. He knew way more than that, too, which he hadn't admitted to.

Oh, and her suppressants were supposed to wear off the day after this terrorist attack, which meant they probably wouldn't have much time to look into it afterwards before she went into heat.

Great.

Here it was, the hammer she'd been waiting to fall.

Running a hand down her face, she decided she was going to call it a night and go back home a few hours early to talk things over with the rest of the team. But not without another murmuring of, "When it rains, it fucking pours."

Four days.

Word Count: 3,894

Next Chapter Title: another one bites the dust