Peter Parker Field Trips And More

Always in time, but never in line for dreams

Peter Parker was a dancer. When his parents died he needed a way to grieve silently and when he saw beautiful young women in the window of a ballet studio, dancing their hearts out, he turned to May, pointed at the girls and said, "That's what I want to do." And so he did. May signed him up for beginners classes and Peter danced his heart out, and he got good at it. But Flash found out. Flash dug around and found a pair of pointe shoes in Peter's backpack in 8th grade and started teasing him about it, relentlessly. Keeping to the stereotype that only females danced. Which Peter thought was stupid, but boy was he devestated. He ran home crying to May that fateful Tuesday and instead of getting on his leotard to go to dance that afternoon, he cried his eyes out, begging May to let him quit. So she did, and Peter never danced again. Sometimes he'd find himself sitting on the floor in a split, swaying from side to side, like he was stretching and he'd find himself in his room while cleaning, slowly spinning across the floor on his toes. The girls at his school who still danced told him they missed him and he'd find himself giving them a hug and saying that he missed them too, but he was just so busy and maybe they could meet up and she could teach Peter some new things they'd learned.

So when Peter found himself baking cookies in Tony's kitchen, spinning around and leaping across the floor as he hummed along to the music, only to have Pepper walk in and Peter stop abruptly, he wasn't surprised. Just a little embarrassed.

"Peter, are you a dancer?" Pepper asked, a smile growing on her face as she watched the boy stumble through his response.

"I-i mean, I was a dancer. So I guess yeah. I stopped in 8th grade."

"Why'd you stop?"

"I- there was this stupid kid that found pointe shoes in my bag and started teasing me about it. I still regret my decision to stop, but I got bit by the spider about a year and a half later so it didn't matter and I would have had to stop anyways."

"Well, if you ever want to keep dancing, we have a studio a few floors down, filled to the brim with unused pointe shoes. Natasha goes down there sometimes."

So when Peter found himself in that studio a few nights later at 3 in the morning, unable to sleep due to stress, dancing it all out, breaking in a pair of pointe shoes he found in another room, he wasn't surprised. But then Natasha Romanov walked in, and he didn't even notice. Peter was leaping across the floor, spinning Fouettes on the hardwood and going over the five basic positions and stretching himself in an arabesque, he was so caught up in himself, he didn't notice Natasha Romanov walk in. Until she was in his line of sight in the mirror. He stopped abruptly, like with Pepper and turned towards the woman.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Romanov, I just couldn't sleep, I'll leave now." He picked up the bag he brought in and started untying the pointe shoes.
"Wait, Peter" She held up a hand in front of him, as to stop him.

"Нет, ты не понимаешь, ты не должен был знать об этом. (No, you do not understand, you should not have known about this.)" He retorted.

"Что ты имеешь в виду, я не должен был знать об этом. (What do you mean, I shouldn't have known about it)"

The boy stayed silent.

"Снова, Питер, почему я не должен знать об этом? (Again, Peter, why shouldn't I know about this?)" She repeated.

"это трудно объяснить (it is hard to explain)"

"И я могу быть здесь, пока ты не пойдешь в школу через четыре часа (And I can be here until you go to school in four hours)"

"Don't waste your time on me."

"Then tell me why I can't know."

"I don't know, I don't want Mr. Stark or the rest of the team to think I'm any less of a man." Peter sighed and stopped taking off his shoes.

"Peter, Tony won't think you're any less of a man. If anything, he'll think you're more of a man!"

"But why?"

"Ballet is so fucking difficult. How long have you been dancing?"

"I started when I was six or seven and stopped when I was 13, I've kept the skill though."

"From the looks of it, you never stopped dancing. Who else knows?"

"Pepper, she caught me in the kitchen. And Clint might know, but that's just cause he's a creep."

She laughed. "You got that right. Why don't we work on your technique."

"Tonight?" He gasped.

"Tomorrow" She laughed.

"Alright. Thank you Ms. Romanov."

"Of course, Peter. Now get some rest."

"Yes, Ms. Romanov."

"Natasha."

"Sorry, Ms. Ro- Natasha."

"Okay, bedtime."

"Right, sorry Natasha!"

Peter stumbled out of the room, carrying his bag and the newly broken-in pair of shoes slung across his shoulder. Natasha smiled at where his figure once was and laughed when she heard a loud tumble and a quiet "I'm okay!"