I'm bored. No school, basically nothing to do around the house . . . guess that means updates!

Two more people join Team Iron Man, and two more people join Team Captain America. Enjoy!

***

"Hey, May!" Peter Parker called cheerfully as he entered his apartment, DVD player in hand, rucksack over his shoulder, earbuds in.

"Mmm, hey," his aunt May responded. "How was school today?"

"OK. This crazy car parked outside . . . " Peter's eyes widened when he saw who his aunt was speaking with.

"Oh," Tony looked at him. "Mr. Parker."

"Um . . . " Peter hurriedly took out his earbuds. "What . . . what are you doing . . . hey," he waved sheepishly. "Uh, I – I – I'm Peter."

"Tony," he nodded.

"What are you – what are you . . . what are you . . . what are you doing here?"

"It's about time we met," Tony raised an eyebrow. "You've been getting my e-mails, right?"

"Yeah," Peter said slowly before nodding. "Yeah."

"Right?"

"Regarding the . . . ?"

"You didn't tell me about the grant!" May frowned at him.

"About the grant," Peter nodded immediately.

"The September Foundation," Tony prompted.

"Right."

"Yeah, remember when you applied?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded more convincingly . . . though he had no idea what he meant.

"I approved, so now we're in business!"

"You didn't tell me anything!" May frowned. "What's up with that? You keeping secrets from me now?"

"Why, I just – I just – " Peter fumbled for words. "I just know how much you love surprises, so I thought I would let you know . . . wh . . . anyway, what did I apply for?" he asked Tony.

"That's what I'm here to hash out," Tony smiled.

"OK," he nodded slowly. "Hash . . . hash out. OK."

"It's so hard for me to believe that she's someone's aunt," Tony pointed at May.

"Yeah, well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?" she smirked.

"This walnut date loaf is exceptional."

"Let me just stop you there," Peter held up his hands.

"Yeah?" Tony asked.

"Is this grant . . . like, got money involved or whatever? No?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"It's pretty well funded."

"Wow," he whispered.

"Look who you're talking to," Tony smirked, pointing at Peter. "Can I have five minutes with him?"

"Sure," May nodded.

***

Peter watched Tony latch the door shut, then spat the walnut loaf into the trash. "As walnut date loaves go . . . that wasn't bad." He paused, looking at the computers in his room. "Whoa. What do we have here? Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation Army?"

"Uh . . . the garbage, actually," Peter blushed.

"You're a dumpster diver."

"Yeah, I was . . . anyway, look," he scratched the back of his head. "Um . . . I definitely did not apply for your grant."

"Ah ah!" he held up a finger. "Me first."

"OK," Peter frowned.

"Quick question of the rhetorical variety." Tony held up his phone and projected a holographic video, and Peter's eyes widened when he as Spider-Man appeared. "That's you, right?"

"Um, no," Peter shook his head. "What do you – what do you mean?"

"Yeah, look at you go," Tony watched him swing, then catch a car going at him. "Wow! Nice catch! 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's not easy. You got mad skills!"

"That's all – that's all on YouTube, though, right?" Peter asked, eyes wide. "I mean, that's where you found that? Because you know that's all fake. It's all done on the computer."

"Mmmhmm," Tony watched him with an eagle eye.

"It's like that video . . . what is it?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah . . . oh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?" The Doctor and Jessie had gotten a kick out of that.

"Exactly," Peter nodded.

Tony nodded absently before taking a broomstick. "Oh, what have we here?"

He poked at a tile in the wall, and Peter sprang forward, pushing his suit into the closet when it fell. "Uh, that's a – "

"So," Tony smirked, folding his arms. "You're the . . . Spider . . . ling. Crime-fighting Spider . . . you're Spider-Boy?"

Peter folded his arms, biting his lip. "Spider-Man," he corrected.

"Not in that onesie, you're not."

"It's not a onesie!" Peter groaned as he walked around his room, Tony picking up the suit curiously. "I don't believe this! I was actually having a real good day today, you know, Mr. Stark! Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there, and algebra test. Nailed it!"

"Who else knows?" Tony asked. "Anybody?"

"Nobody."

"Not even your unusually attractive aunt?"

"No!" Peter yelped. "No, no, no, no. If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out!"

"You know what I think is really cool?" Tony mused. "This webbing. That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?"

"I did," Peter mumbled.

"Climbing the walls. How you doing that? Cohesive gloves."

"It's a long story. I was, uh . . . "

"Lordy!" Tony peered through the suit. "Can you even see in these?"

"Yes, yes, I can!" Peter yanked his suit away. "I can. I can – I can see in those, OK? It's just that . . . when whatever happened . . . happened, it's like my senses have been dialed to eleven. There's way too much input, so they just kinda help me focus."

"You're in dire need of an upgrade," Tony remarked. "Systematic, top to bottom. 100 point restoration. That's why I'm here. And the Doctor," he muttered to himself. "He's not going in that suit, anyway." He turned back to Peter. "Why you doing this?" he asked. "I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you outta that twin bed in the morning?"

"Because . . . " Peter said on said bed and looked at his fingers. "Because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers for six months."

"Mmmhmm."

"I read books, I build computers, and yeah, I would love to play football, but I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now."

"Sure, because you're different."

"Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not. When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen . . . they happen because of you."

"So you wanna look out for the little guy. You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just looking out for the little guy. That's, that's what it is."

Tony stepped closer, then eyed Peter's leg on the bed. "I'm gonna sit here, so you move the leg." Peter did, and Tony sat down, then clapped him on the shoulder. "You got a passport?"

"Uh, no," Peter stared at him. "I don't even have a driver's license."

"You ever been to Germany?"

"No."

"Oh, you'll love it."

"I can't go to Germany!" Peter protested.

"Why?" Tony frowned.

"I got . . . homework!"

Tony rolled his eyes at that. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that."

"I'm – I'm being serious! I can't just drop out of school!"

"Might be a little dangerous," Tony continued, standing up to leave. "Better tell Aunt Hottie I'm taking you on a field trip."

Peter stood up and aimed at Tony's hand, and webbing shot out, sticking his hand to the door. Tony paused, looking at him expectantly. "Don't tell Aunt May," he mumbled.

"All right, Spider-Man," Tony nodded, then pointed at the webbing. "Get me out of this."

"Sorry," Peter looked around. "I'll get the . . . "

***

An explosion outside the compound made Wanda look up from the book she'd been reading. She ran out of her room to join Vision, who was looking out the window. "What is it?" she asked worriedly.

"Stay here, please," Vision told her, going through the window to see.

Wanda bit her lip, watching the smoke rise – and she heard something move behind her. She quickly turned to the kitchen counter, moving the knife in its chopping block and flinging it across the room –

And quickly stopped it before it dug itself into Clint Barton's head. The archer smirked and reached up, tapping it with one finger, knocking it off course. "Guess I shoulda knocked."

"Oh, my God!" Wanda's eyes widened, running up to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Disappointing my kids," Clint answered, firing arrows on both sides of the room. "I'm supposed to go waterskiing." He took her hand. "Cap needs our help. Come on!"

Wanda ran off after him when she heard something come through the wall. "Clint!" Vision called, and they stopped dead. "You should not be here."

Clint paused, then turned around. "Really?" he asked. "I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit!"

"Please consider the consequences of your actions."

Clint pretended to. "OK, they're considered." The two arrows suddenly conjured a forcefield, holding Vision between them. "OK, we gotta go," he turned around, running off. Wanda paused, biting her lip, and Clint turned to her. "It's this way," he pointed.

"But the Bad Wolf," Wanda began.

"She's with Steve," Clint assured her.

"She's all right?" Wanda straightened. "And Pietro?"

"He's with me, and yes, she's fine," Clint nodded, walking up. "And they told me to tell you that if you wanna mope, you can go to high school. You wanna help her out, you get off your ass." Wanda smiled slightly; the first was definitely her brother, and the second was like the Bad Wolf. Her smile faded when Clint gazed past her and froze. "Shit." Wanda turned to see Vision use the Mind Stone to take out the arrows, moving forward. Clint moved forward to engage him, but Vision punched him to the floor, Clint hurrying to get back to his feet. "I knew I should have stretched!" he grunted, lunging forward with a baton.

Vision phased it right through him. Every punch Clint tried went through him, and when he tried the baton again, Vision raised his arm, and the baton broke. Clint tried a kick next, and Vision phased it through him before grabbing Clint in a headlock. "Clint, you can't overpower me," he warned.

"I know I can't," Clint shook his head, smirking. "But she can."

Wanda walked up to Vision, putting her hands together, a ball of magic shimmering between them. "Vision, that's enough," she said. "Let him go. I'm leaving."

"I can't let you," Vision shook his head.

Wanda swallowed, then brought her hands apart, energy glowing between them brighter and brighter. The Mind Stone turned from gold to scarlet, and Vision watched in shock as Clint slid from his grasp. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"If you do this," Vision rasped as she forced him to the ground, Clint backing up. "They will never stop being afraid of you."

"I can't control their fear," Wanda shook her head, walking closer. "Only my own."

She thrust downwards, and Vision turned more and more dense, the floor breaking beneath him. With a final push, Wanda sent him down, down, down, far down until she was certain he wouldn't try and stop them again.

"Oh," Clint winced, looking down. "Come on," he held out his hand, which Wanda took. "We got one more stop."

***

"It's just a matter of time," T'Challa's assistant said as T'Challa headed for his car. "Our satellites are running facial, biometric, and behavioral pattern scans."

"Move, or you will be moved," T'Challa's security chief suddenly said.

T'Challa looked past him, only to smirk when he recognized the man by the car. "As entertaining as that would be," he said, moving past him.

"You really think you can find him?" the Doctor asked.

"My resources are considerable," T'Challa answered.

"Mmm," the Doctor nodded. "It took the world seventy years to find Barnes, and that was even with the TARDIS searching. You could probably do that in . . . what, half the time?"

T'Challa tilted his head. "You know where they are."

"I know someone who does," the Doctor held out his hand.

T'Challa considered, then shook his hand.

***

Steve exited the car he had driven, Jessie landing behind him. Sharon exited her own car, walking up to them. "Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car," Sharon remarked.

Steve looked back at the small car he had driven, with the three others crammed inside. "It's low profile," he shrugged.

"Good," Sharon opened her trunk, revealing everything that had been confiscated from Steve, Martha, and Sam. "Because this stuff tends to draw a crowd."

Jessie leaned against Steve's car, then heard Bucky say, "Can you move your seat up?"

"No," Sam answered.

She smirked, looking down in. "The offer of getting one of you out still stands."

"I might take you up on it if this continues," Martha grumbled.

Jessie chuckled, patting the top of the car. "I owe you again," Steve told Sharon.

"Keeping a list," Sharon smirked, then eyed Bucky. "You know, he kinda tried to kill me."

"Sorry," he winced. "I'll put it on the list."

"Sharon," Jessie walked up. "They're going to come looking for you."

"I know," she said simply.

"Thank you, Sharon," Steve said sincerely.

Sharon just smiled at him and shook his hand. "Good luck," she wished before going back to her car.

Steve turned to Jessie. "If the Doctor comes," he began.

"He won't hurt me," Jessie said, so much certainty in her voice that Steve couldn't help but believe her.

Steve sighed. "You're really with us on this, aren't you?"

"They're not getting Bucky," Jessie nodded. "So, if that means I have to stick to you, you'll just have to deal with it."

Steve blew out a breath, hugging her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she hugged him back.

"All right," Steve straightened, walking back to the car. "In the words of your last husband . . . Geronimo."

***

The teams are growing . . . and everyone knows what happens once Team Captain America meets up. :)

I'll get to work on the next chapter right away! Hopefully I can get that done while Mom's getting her hair cut.