Intended to be pure fluff and a glimpse of the brighter days ahead for Peter Parker.

Peter wasn't sure how his first fourth of July with the Avengers was going to go.

His memories of earlier fourth of July celebrations weren't anything special. Aunt May was always sure to pick up watermelon from the supermarket and slice it up for the three of them to eat. When it got darker, they would climb to the rooftop of their small Queens apartment with a few of the other families and watch the fireworks. Uncle Ben would have a beer and Peter would beg to try a sip.

It was a small holiday that he had no bad memories of.

The last two fourth of Julys had been different. Uncle Ben hadn't been there.

Holidays were depressing when you were missing a family member. Their absence was especially notable. The last two fourth of July celebrations had felt off, because something was missing.

Aunt May had made due. There was still watermelon, but they'd both skipped out on the fireworks, Aunt May because she was tired and Peter because criminals were especially active after having a little too much to drink at the parties.

Fourth of July had always been a humble holiday. That would change, now that he was celebrating it with Captain America.

There was nothing more patriotic than celebrating the USA with Captain America.

Tony hadn't been able to make it. There'd been some charity that he and Pepper were attending down in LA. Thor wouldn't be present either. He was still dealing with the aftermath of the Asgardian parasites.

Clint and Natasha had reluctantly agreed to join Steve, Dr. Banner, and Peter in Steve's Brooklyn apartment.

Peter had been hesitant to accept Steve's invitation. Yeah, he was on relatively good terms with the Avengers, but nightmares still haunted him.

Not that he'd tell any of them. They were pitying him enough already.

But Peter had accepted.

On one condition. If Daredevil received an invitation as well.

The Hell's Kitchen vigilante may have insisted that 'Brooklyn was out of his area,' and 'you sure aren't going to find a Manhattan boy celebrating with a Brooklyn kid', but Peter got the feeling he was pleased by the offer.

Even if parties weren't his thing.

Now, it was time for Peter to leave his neat little apartment in upper Manhattan and head to Steve's.

The familiar bus ride went by too fast. Peter tap-a-tap tapped the seat with his fingers, chewing on his lip as he stared out the window.

This was the first time since after the fight that Peter would be seeing the Avengers for a reason unrelated to Spider-Man.

He'd gotten to know them slightly. If he had one word to describe them with, he'd use intimidating.

Tony Stark was intimidating in a way that only rich and smart people can be. If he and Dr. Banner were working on some project together and Stark entered the lab, Peter came up with an excuse to leave. The guy was unpredictable, hard to read, and powerful.

Clint and Natasha were intimidating more in a 'I can kill you with the tip of my pinkie finger and don't you forget it,' way. They very rarely spoke to anyone other than each other unless they had a reason. Peter found he had very little in common. 'Wow, you were abducted as a child to become a legendary Russian assassin and now you kill people on daily basis for the government? I'm sure that gives you nightmares.'

That conversation wouldn't go well.

Steve Rogers was intimidating in a way that was uniquely Steve Rogers.

Something felt off about him. Maybe it was the far away look he got in his eyes every once in awhile, or the serious look he had about him. The guy may have looked young, but being with him sometimes felt like being with a man that's lived a long, full life and was ready to let go of it.

Very intimidating.

Bruce may have been intimidating, but Peter didn't mind him at all. He'd gotten used to the fact that at any moment the man might become a big, angry green monster. If someone had asked Peter if he had any friends, Bruce would've been it.

Yes the man was intimidating in his own way, but Peter trusted him more than any of the other Avengers.

There was a ding. The automated voice spoke the name of the street. With a shaky breath, Peter stood up. This was it.

Even from the other side of the block, Peter could hear the laughter echoing through Steve's little apartment. While most of the neighbor's windows were dark, Steve's was lit up with a cheery yellow light that leaked out between the heavy shades and onto the shadowy street. The powerful smell of burgers wafted through the air and into Peter's enhanced nose. His bottomless stomach grumbled.

Peter approached the front door at a much slower pace than his long legs normally went. He climbed up the cement steps, hesitating at the second, before going up the other three.

Long, scarred fingers paused over the plastic doorbell. Who would answer the door? Would it be one of the Avengers? One of the other people Steve had invited that Peter didn't know? Or Captain America himself?

After an agonizing pause, Peter moved to ring the doorbell.

A split second before he did, the door swung open, revealing Steve.

"Peter! Glad you could make it! Come on in."

In an almost dreamlike trance, Peter let Captain America guide him by his shoulder through the door and into the apartment's living room. Clustered on couches and chairs were different people of all ages. The living room was full of people, with there being enough that it could be considered packed, but not full to the point of uncomfortableness.

Peter recognised Bruce talking to two young college aged students only a few years older than him. They seemed deep in conversation. From the tidbits he'd heard, it was on biology.

Natasha had a smile on her face as she listened to an older man ramble on about 'those crazy Soviets.' Peter couldn't tell if it was genuine, or just another intricate mask she was hiding behind.

Clint stood next to Natasha, blank faced and stoic. His attention was partially on the older man and partially on a slightly familiar face that Peter recognised, but didn't know personally.

The guy was a high ranking SHIELD agent, who's name sounded like Coldstone. It fit him, too, because so-called 'Coldstone' looked like he ate a lot of ice cream. Coldstone was relaxed in an arm chair, listening to a young woman go on and on about some computer-related terms.

There were other people in the kitchen. Peter could hear the sizzling of meat on a pan and the dull thwop of a knife slamming against a cutting board.

Daredevil was nowhere in sight.

Inwardly, Peter was berating himself for deciding to come. This had been a very bad idea. He would spend the next three hours awkwardly standing in a corner, pretending to enjoy whatever conversation people attempted to make. He could be wrapping criminals upside down to lamp posts right now, and here he was, at a party.

"Hey everybody." Steve's voice rose above the loud din, and the room quieted slightly. Peter felt twenty different pairs of eyes focus on him. He did his best not to sink into his hoodie.

"This is Peter. He's a young scientist Dr. Banner met at some science for youth thing Stark held a few months ago."

There were polite waves and a chorus of 'hi's'. Their conversation resumed.

Peter drifted towards Dr. Banner and the two college-ages kids.

"-entirely theoretical because nobody has successfully proven cross species genetics for the restoration of limbs actually works!" The girl had a high-pitched British accent and spoke faster than a native New Yorker. What she said registered a few seconds later.

Oh. That conversation.

He tried to flee to the kitchen before Dr. Banner could drag him into the debate, but it was too late.

"Ask Peter here about it. His father worked with Osborn on cross-species genetics."

The attention was immediately on him.

"He worked with Osborn? Has he shared any of his research with you? What were the variables?"

"I...uh… no. He died when I was six."

Dr. Banner winced.

Yeah. Don't bring Peter into the conversation, buddy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Must be hard having no father. Just you and your mother, eh?"

Dr. Banner winced again. Peter decided he didn't want any more pitying glances.

"Cross-species genetics might work someday, but it's a dangerous science with very few working solutions. It's not a theoretical science, but I can't tell you anymore than that."

The young woman's eyes widened.

"Oh please, you have to! Imagine the technological advances that could be fueled by that!"

Spider-Man was the result of cross-species genetics.

But Peter couldn't say that without raising questions he wouldn't answer.

He shrugged, and backpedaled towards the kitchen. Bruce mouthed sorry. He looked so unhappy with himself, that Peter found himself instantly forgiving him.

He knew he shouldn't have come.

The kitchen wasn't much better. There were two older men so caught up in a debate on football, that they didn't even notice Peter's presence.

Stomach grumbling, he reached for one of the burgers piled on a plate on the counter.

His hand was slapped.

"Ow!"

The deliverer of the hand slap was a woman that was dressed with more patriotism than Captain America.

The red white and blue shirt was paired with sparkly flag leggings. Her shoes had tiny Captain America shields glued to the front and her hair was filled with shiny silver stars, pinned in random places.

Even her makeup (was the eyelid makeup the blush or mascara? Peter couldn't remember) was patriotic. Suddenly, Peter felt very underdressed in his blue hoodie with red converse.

"Excuse you," the woman snapped.

"...um…" was the only answer Peter's brain supplied.

"Um is right. Um what do you think you're doing? These aren't out of the kitchen yet. And I don't recognise you, anyway. Are you a homeless hobo? Did you think you could sneak in here and steal food from Captain America because he's all generous and stuff? If I had my taser, you would be out cold, pipsqueak!"

"...I'm at least five inches taller than you… and I'm… um… not homeless."

He really needed to learn how to talk to women.

Also, tasers were not fun. Peter hadn't been tasered in a while, but it was a painful sensation one didn't forget.

"Darcy," A new voice scolded.

The now dubbed 'Darcy' spun around defensively.

"What? He was trying to steal food, Jane!"

"I wasn't stealing," Peter muttered feebly. Neither girl took notice.

"But calling him homeless and threatening to taser him? That's a bit overkill. All I asked you to do was keep the guys away from the burgers for a few minutes!"

"He's a guy, isn't he?" Darcy pointed a red white and blue, manicured fingernail at him. "Aren't you?"

"uhhhh…"

"Look at that Darcy! You've sent him into shock. And that's Thor's friend. Thor told me that if I saw a scraggly, tall teenager with an excellent puppy face and a tendency to say "uhhh" around women, that I should tell him hi."

Jane turned to Peter.

"Hi, I'm Thor's girlfriend Jane. I'm an astrophysicist currently studying the theoretical science of Einstein-Rosen bridges. This is Darcy. We mostly ignore her."

Peter stared at the two.

Girls were scary and made no sense. This was why he'd only had one girlfriend in his entire existence.

And she had died.

Ooh, burn.

Maybe it was more awkward in the living room, but it was definitely safer. Peter backed up, his hands held up defensively in the air.

"You know what, I'm just going to…"

Neither Jane or patriotic Darcy took notice of Peter's escape. They were too busy squabbling.

It was almost a relief to be out of the kitchen and back in the living room.

Almost.

Peter found a corner of the room and took out his Stark phone. He played Crossy Road for a few minutes, but his eyes were continuously pulled towards his app.

Mr. Sta- Tony had built Peter an app for tracking crime. It connected with police radios, but he'd jokingly made it look like the Pokemon Go game, only with a Spider-Man avatar and stupid-looking criminals instead of Ash and pokemon. The Pokemon theme song even played every time Peter opened the app.

He kept his sound muted.

It was tempting. Peter didn't think anyone but Bruce and possibly Mr. Rog- Steve would notice if Peter disappeared. He even had his suit on under his clothes. And crime fighting was definitely more important than a fourth of July party…

Peter's finger tapped on the app.

The stupid loading screen (it had an animated picture of Spider-Man on the front) pulled up. Peter glanced around. There were no eyes looking in his direction.

The map appeared on the screen.

Three robberies, nine drunk drivers, and a man running around in nothing but cowboy boots.

And this was only in his immediate area.

Yeah, the police could definitely use some help. In fact, they would most certainly appreciate a little assistance from their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man…

Peter glanced around again. Bruce was still deep in conversation with the two science geeks, Steve had just disappeared into the kitchen, and both Clint and Natasha were busy in a friendly arm wrestling match.

Friendly. Ha ha.

Nobody would notice if he just slipped out through the kitchen, onto the fire escape…

He covertly went back through the living room and into the kitchen. Steve was bent over the oven, a flowery pair of oven mitts covering his hands. Both the old men, Jane and patriotic Darcy were gone.

With the silence and agility of a spider, Peter slipped out through the screen door. Steve didn't notice a thing.

As soon as the screen door was safely shut, Steve straightened, pulling off the oven mitts and tossing them carelessly on the counter. The innocent, clueless look disappeared from his face. His back straightened as he went into full Captain America mode.

"Avengers assemble," he whispered authoritatively into his comm. "We've got a Code Web."

The result was instantaneous. Clint and Natasha's arm wrestling match ended abruptly. Any miniscule facial expressions they may have been displaying disappeared. Both stood up and exited the living room.

Dr. Banner politely excused himself from his conversation with FitzSimmons for a 'bathroom break.' Both were sad to see him go, but had no problem engaging in conversation with the renowned Dr. Foster and her patriotic intern Darcy. Nobody noticed him follow the spies into Steve's bedroom.

On the opposite side of the country, Tony Stark was busy shaking the hand of important, famous person number 126. He made a smooth escape.

"It truly is an honor, Mr. Stark. I am such a fan of your work in the clean energy field. In fact, my company would like to make a four million dollar dea-"

Captain America's message came through the comm hidden in his ear.

"Umm… that's great." Tony glanced around. Where was Pepper? She could probably finish shaking hands for him.

Important, famous person number 126 was thrilled.

"Really? I know Stark Industries is not as much into the textile field, but it truly would be a worthy invest-"

Pepper was nowhere in sight. Oh well. This was more important.

"I gotta go," Tony said abruptly. He took off towards the exit of the building, leaving confused, important, famous person number 126 staring after him with quite a bit of shock.

"Mr. Stark," the man called out. His loud voice drew the attention of every person in the room. It fell silent. Tony jogged the last three steps to the door, and opened it before the security guard could.

Yes, a very smooth exit indeed.

The Avengers assembled in Steve's room. Bruce took the office chair parked next to Steve's old-fashioned, wooden desk. Clint and Natasha lounged on the bed. Iron Man appeared, as a 3D holographic projection, from Bruce's phone. The last one in the room was Steve, who shut the door behind himself.

Steve was in command mode. He analyzed each of his team members. He cleared his throat to make sure all eyes were on him, before he began to give orders, infused with a hearty dose of Captain America motivational speechness.

"Tony, do you have current access to the tracking beacon in Peter's phone?"

Holographic Tony rolled his eyes.

"Of course. What do you take me for, a dinosaur?"

Steve ignored the sarcastic remark.

"We're going to surround him. Natasha take north from the location Stark gives you, Clint take east, Bruce west, and I'll take south."

"Where's the bait?" Natasha asked.

"The provider is currently holding the bait for us on the balcony. Remember, this is a mission of utmost importance. As a representative of the United States of America, I insist for the entire country that one of its bravest heroes have the best time on the holiday celebrating its birth. After all, we wouldn't want Peter Parker to become Canadian."

"I've been considering doing that myself lately," Clint mused. "With the current president being-"

He was cut off by a stern glare.

"Avengers Assemble," Steve finished.

To be continued...