The hotel bathroom is as big as Peter's bedroom back in Queens and then some.

Thanks to Mr. Stark, Peter is a little more used to casual extravagance. The amount of empty floor space in the compound could probably fill up several gyms. KAREN once explained to him that it was very avant garde, but May had rolled her eyes and said it was wasteful.

"Holy shit. They aren't playing around. Look at these digs," Peter hears Abe exclaim loudly from the hotel room across from theirs. He doesn't even need his enhanced super-hearing for that one.

Peter snaps a photo with his phone and send it off to Happy in a habitual text. Just because he's got a little more access to Mr Stark doesn't mean he's not going to send Happy updates!

Also, these days, he half expects a polite duck off text to greet him in a few hours. Sometimes, Happy switches it up and doesn't send anything at all. It's pretty 50/50 with him.

Peter enters the bedroom only to see a bag of gummy bears from the newly discovered mini-fridge tossed his direction.

He catches the bag and tears it open.

A knock sounds on the door and Abe rushes to open it. MJ's face appears just in time to see Peter tear the head off of his gummy bear.

"You know what those are made of, right?" MJ points out with an almost gleeful expression. There's nothing she loves more than being the bearer of bad news. Peter shrugs.

Cindy and Betty peek their heads in through the doorway.

"Are you guys ready to go grab lunch? Mr. Harrison just texted. He said he's waiting downstairs,"

"We'll be there soon!" Ned calls out. He ushers MJ out the door and turns expectantly to Peter.

"Hold on, I'll be downstairs soon. I need to get my phone,"

Peter runs back to the bedroom and fishes his phone out from the middle of the bed where'd he'd tossed it after his text to Happy. Something in his head blares and he looks up at the window, hearing a tap. He approaches the clear glass cautiously and sees a bird lift off from the edge of the windowsill.

Peter breathes a sign of relief. False alarm. Just leftover paranoia from New York.

He pockets his phone and runs off to catch up to the rest of the team. In the hallway, Peter bumps into Seymour.

"Hey Seymour! Nice, you're late too," Seymour gives him a friendly smile and taps his glasses pointedly.

"Yeah, I took them off for a moment and almost couldn't find them again."

Peter gives an understanding nod and steps into a ready elevator. Seymour follows.

.

.

.

Lunch in the middle of London is loud. The team took a double-decker bus and everyone, Mr. Harrington included, was too busy oggling at the sights to notie they were meant to get off at a previous stop. Liz had to remind Mr. Harrison and he had hissed out a quiet curse which Peter did a double-take at because Mr. Harrington never cussed.

Maybe this trip is more stressful than he's letting on, Peter wondered vaguely.

Once they arrive at the restaurant, Peter finds out that the crowds are everywhere.

"It's almost like we never left." Seymour jokes as they stand in the queue and wait for an available table.

Peter ends up crowded up against Cindy and Mr. Harrison. Flash pinches him as he slides into a chair across from Peter. MJ notices him jerk and rolls her eyes. Liz organizes an impromptu quiz bowl after everyone orders, but it doesn't last very long. The smells coming from everyone else's plates are too enticing to ignore for a group of hungry teenagers and their frustrated chaperone.

Once the food arrives, the day begins to blur. Peter remembers stealing a chip from Ned's plate and laughing at something Abe says. And then laughing at something Abe says again.

If there's one thing Abe prides himself on, it's his sense of humor.

After their first authentic London cuisine lunch, they walk to the Buckingham Palace as Mr. Harrison lectures about its history. He lets Liz take over to talk about the composition of the architecture as MJ chimes in with a few fun facts about historically important visitors.

"Peter come here!" Ned shouts in front of the Victoria Memorial. He waves his phone in the air meaningfully and Peter puts on his toothiest smile for the upcoming selfies. They even rope MJ into a few of the photos, but it isn't until Mr. Harrison insists on a group photo that Peter realizes how many people are staring.

It isn't that their group is acting unusual. Neither is it their American accents. Peter's heard five different languages spoken in the past three minutes alone. And everyone else is also posing ridiculously and taking photos.

There's even a tour group approaching from Peter's left with twice as many people. All of them are lugging around suitcases or big, bulky cameras. Peter always wanted one for himself, but they're expensive and he never got up the courage to ask May.

"Dude, what is it?" Ned notices that Peter has suddenly gone quiet. He turns, hair in his eyes, and looks up at his best friend. The team dispersed a little after the group photo and Ned can see Flash wandering around near the edge of the tree line, but he tries to keep his voice quiet, cognizant of the tourists around them.

"Nothing, don't worry about," Peter denies weakly.

"Seriously, what's wrong? I'm your guy in the char. You can tell me."

Peter nods weakly. He seems distracted and his eyes are skirting around Ned like he's looking through him.

"I think it's jet-lag or something. I don't feel so good."

"You've never been on a plane before, right?" Ned nods understandingly. "You just have to sleep it off. It should go away pretty soon."

.

.

.

After another hour of wandering the streets of London, Mr. Harrison gives up on keeping a group of teenagers entertained and insists they return to the hotel for some time to cool off and unpack.

Peter is once again struck at the majesty of the hotel as soon as the automatic doors slide open in front of him. He notices Charles rushes past with Betty in hot pursuit ("If you break my phone I'm going to cut out your tongue!" She yells), but he still can't get over the majesty of the marble fountains. All the white space is eerily reminiscent of the compound.

Peter glances around and locks eyes with the woman at the front desk. She's about Mr. Harrison's age, with a neat, blonde bob of hair and disdain etched into her features. something in Peter's head blares, because there's something familiar about her-

"Get moving, Penis Parker!" Flash says with a strange amount of cheer. The trip through London had the opposite effect on him as compared to Peter. Flash looks like he could go a few rounds with a grizzly bear and come out of it alive; Peter feels like if a grizzly bear was in front of him, he'd just take the mauling.

Peter nearly throws open the door to his and Ned's room and rushes to find his pajamas.

"Hey Ned, I'm going to turn in early, okay?" He yells out. He can hear Ned shuffling around his own suitcase.

"Are you sure, dude? It's really early." Ned glances out at the window and Peter follows his gaze. The sun has barely started setting.

"Trust me, I need this. I think I'll start tearing my hair out if I don't go to bed soon."

'Alright, 'Night, Peter." Peter murmurs a response and begins getting ready for bed, already dreaming of crashing for teh night (and evening) and getting a long bout of nice, dreamless sleep.

.

.

.

"Has anyone seen any other Decathlon team yet? This place is just full of business-men in suits," Charles asks, bobbing up and down in the pool water.

The hotel's indoor pool was Sally's lucky find. Located down a hallway to the left of the lobby, it took her fifteen minutes of aimless wandering to find a staff member and learn that it was a) free for all guests to use and b) still open, even at 10:30pm.

Luckily, it only took a single short phone call to call Liz down. Within fifteen minutes, the Decathlon members had all gathered (with the exception of Peter, who was sleeping) under the joking guise of a team building activity.

"After lunch today, I went to look for the gym and these two guys in suits were whispering to each other. It was pretty intense. When I turned the corner and they saw me, they both shut up instantly," Cindy recounts.

Sally laughs and rolls up her jeans to put her feet in the water.

"I keep waiting for someone to show me their ID and introduce themselves as Agent, whatever. FBI," She jokes.

Ned watches MJ roll her eyes (dare he say, fondly) at Sally's words from her place on a lounge chair. Her hands thumb the pages of her novel unconsciously and her curly hair is unbound.

"Guys, come on. Most of the teams are probably from the area, so why would they need to stay in a hotel?"

"Well, what about the other American teams? Are they hiding from us or something?"

"I'm sure they're around. Maybe at other hotels. there are three on this block alone," Liz chimes in, unfailingly logical as always.

"We should ask Mr. Harrington tomorrow morning." Seymour says. His glasses are askew on his face and he's balancing very precariously on a hot pink pool raft. Ned doesn't think this will end well for him.

He turns to ask Liz a questions and winces at a loud splash.

I totally called it, Ned thinks, grinning.

fun fact: i named this chapter peter parker picks a pack of pickled peppers

fun fun fact: its been 5 months~ not 6, so im not a liar yet haha

funner fact: evreytime i look at the reviews and follows and favs i SWEAT because i feel bad for not wanting to update but editing is like pulling teeth. does anyone wanna beta for me? (i ask, pathetically aware that chapters are less than 2k words)