1965-01-16 - Responsibility and Internships
Summary: Spider-Man ruins Tony's view of New York - and ends up offering him a job.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
peter-parker tony 

Tony stands at the window of his office with a tumbler of scotch in hand. It's a late night, and he hasn't bothered to go home. Not that there's any work to do, it's just that there's nothing at home to go home to. So he stands, and he drinks, and he ponders.

As evening approaches on a cold evening in New York, Spider-Man is out on one of his patrols. As he swings through the Canyon of Heroes, the young hero is looking for a place to park and have his lunch. That's how he comes to perch on the area above his window. Unslinging the bag he carries, he opens up his small bag to take out a thermos.

Besides his usual spidey suit, he's wearing a knit hat, scarf and leg warmers made by Aunt May and a pair of earmuffs. Because it's cold outside. Glancing at the mirrored glass, he lifts his mask just a little to show the lower half of his face and takes a draw from the thermos. "Oh, bless you." he murmurs for Aunt May and her tomato and basil soup.

Tony's brow furrows. The pigeons are bad enough on that ledge. He's been meaning to get rid of it. He raps on the door a few times in an attempt to draw Spidey's attention, the better to hitch his thumb in the universal sign for 'beat it, kid.' His view of Manhattan in all its majesty, the same view he stares at every night, is being interrupted.

Glancing back into the window upside down, Peter frowns as Tony makes the 'beat it' gesture with his thumb. He sticks out his tongue in response and then frowns. Reaching up to his wrist, he taps it to fire off a webline, presumably to leave, and there's.. nothing.

Great time for a misfire, Parker. There's a frown as Peter pulls his mask back down, putting away the thermos and rolling up his sleeve and pulling the glove to expose the launcher. If Tony is paying attention, he'll notice that they're cobbled together from stainless steel and teflon, with a brass nozzle, and what appears to be a sapphire in it.

Tony's brows lift as he watches Spiderman fiddle with the web slinger. He presses closer to the glass to get a good look at the thing. Interesting. He also spots the problem with it in a heartbeat. In the span of a breath he's thought up a rough schematic for how something like that would work. Sometimes genius isn't all boredom and isolation. He opens the window and says, "Get in here, you're going to break it."

"I'm not going to break it, I made it myself!" comes Spider-Man's protest, but he does find his way into the penthouse, looking around with his mirrored lens that hide his eyes. At this distance, Tony will be able to tell that most of his costume, like his webshooters, are home-brewed. "It's the webfluid, I think. Have to find a better anti-freezing agent." comes the small grouse. "I'd thought about using propylene glycol." he shrugs. "But that's sorta hard to get your hands on."

"It is?" Tony says. Then, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Get in here, kid. You're letting in the cold air." He steps aside so there's room for Spidey to enter the office. "What is all this? Did Halloween hang around late last year? We're heading toward Valentine's buddy. You'll want to sew yourself another costume, because this one? This one's not going to get you any action."

Making his way into the office, Peter lets the window close behind him. He takes a look around and is admittedly, in a bit of awe. Good thing it doesn't show on his face. He bounces for a moment to warm up, before he speaks - he can't be older than 20 the way his voice sounds. "You're Tony Stark. Huge fan. Used to watch your dad's show when I was young." comes the offer, before Spider-Man remembers he's in costume. "Only action I'm looking for is to stop criminals." So says the scarf-wearing hero with leg warmers.

"Keep telling yourself that," Tony says. He sizes up the youngster, and he sets his scotch aside on his desk. "All right, let me see what you've got," he says as he comes closer, with no qualms about invading Spidey's personal space. "Have you thought about using a fabric that conserves heat? You'd be better in long underwear, though not for the look of it. What are you using for the eyes?" He peers at the mask, getting right up close. "How can you see a thing?"

"I'm already wearing long johns." Protest made, Peter frowns as Tony gets up in his grill, and the young man takes a half-step back. "O-of course I have!" comes the response. "I mean, but this is a classic." And he can't afford it, which he's not bringing that up to Tony. "Anyway, webshooter." he manages. He's not going to say how he can see out of his mask. He's got to have some secrets, after all. "It should be warming up - the turbine sometimes freezes up when it's too cold outside." It's only a light grouse.

Tony grunts at the lack of reply, but he doesn't pursue it. Let the kid have his secrets, Tony's got a dozen theories already popping up in his head, and he stashes them for later. Right, webshooter. He inspects the thing with grudging respect as he says, "Not bad. How much of this stuff do you go through in, say, a week? How often do you have to synthesize more webbing fluid?" Already calculations are being made and he hasn't even decided if he's going to help the kid or toss him out the window now that his webbstuff is thawing.

"It's a synthetic nylon fiber I created.." Peter starts to say, and then realizes that he's getting into the proprietary of his abilities. "Usually? In a week?" he does the math in his head. "About one hundred ounces at 300 psi on a variable spread." he offers up finally, before taking out the current cartridge and depresses the trigger a few times to make sure that the nozzle's cleared. "Usually about once a month, when I can find the time.." He's either doing it at home or in a lab, but considering how honest he sounds, he's probably got the lab at the house.

"Huh," Tony says, making a few calculations himself. "You wouldn't need much propylene glycol to keep it from freezing." He narrows is eyes, either in thought, irritation, or both. "I can tell you don't have any money," he says. "So what would you give me in exchange for some?"

"I didn't come here to ask for money, Mister Stark. I was just looking for a nice ledge to have my lunch." Now it's Peter's turn to be irritated. The young man straightens a bit, pulling the sleeve and glove back into place to cover his webshooter, tucking the nozzle back into place. "And heroing is my business." He's playing it close to the vest, because he's just unsure himself.

Tony waves a hand and says, "Fine, fine, fine. Unless you didn't get the memo, I've got a vested interest in fighting crime, too." He tilts his head, arms folded as he studies the youth before him. "Why do you do it?" he asks. "It obviously means something to you. It's not just the hobby of a kid too smart for his own good."

"I know, I know.." comes the response from Spider-Man before he reigns it in. Admittedly, he's jealous of the freedom that Tony has. "I mean, it's not like the Bugle is skewing you every other day." And then Tony asks the 'question'. There's a thought for a moment. Then Peter glances outside to look at the city. When he speaks, it's in a quiet tone. "Something my uncle used to stress, when he was alive. Him and my aunt raised me after my parents died - anyway, he once told me that Roosevelt said, 'I believe in power; but I believe that responsibility should go with power.' And now that I have power - it comes with responsibility." Eventually it'll become the more common 'with great power comes great responsibility', but he's still working on that.

Tony nods slowly, then more quickly as he says, "So you've got this gift, if you want to call it that, or curse, or let's say a terrible responsibility, and you see it as your duty to use it to protect those who can't protect themselves." Maybe he's pulling a few pages from his own book, filling in those blanks. "Most kids your age wouldn't give duty a second thought. Obviously you're not most kids your age." He purses his lips as he thinks. Then he says, "I'm not offering you charity. I'm saying if you want the propylene glycol, it might not be entirely out of reach if you want to earn it. If you don't?" He shrugs like it's no skin off his nose one way or another.

Peter finds himself at one of those proverbial crossroads that life presents to you. As the masked crimfighter considers, he lifts his gaze back to Tony. "And what would you want?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. Tony is one of the heroes, right? This could be a possible in. And he wants to trust.

That's the big question, isn't it? What can someone like Peter Parker give to Tony Stark that he doesn't already have? He's got money, he's got brains. He's even got his own asskicking suit for fighting in the big leagues. But he doesn't have much in the way of intellectual stimulation. There aren't many who can match him. After giving it a moment's thought, he says, "Intern in my lab. You can work after hours in your, uh, pajamas, if you don't want your cover blown. I need some help with a few projects, that's all."

Intern in the lab. Peter's eyes under his mask grow as wide as saucers. "These aren't pajamas." But he's already trying to figure out how to make it all work in his head. Something to discuss with Mary Jane. But, he gives a nod. "Uh. Sure." he manages finally. "I mean, when I'm not busy." Play it cool, Parker. Don't let that squeak in your voice give away just how much you fanboyed.

Tony gives Peter a look. Is he on to the youth? The fanboying? It's hard to tell. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth right now. After a lingering look, he says, "Right. Let's get you that propylene glycol. I've got some in the lab." He heads for the door, looks back, and jerks his head in the universal sign for 'well, come on.' "I don't know where you're at on repulsor techology," he says, "but if your physics is as good as your chemistry, you'll do all right."

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