A/N: Hi guys! Quick disclaimer, I wrote this story for my sister's birthday, and she loves MCU stories. I don't usually read (or write) MCU stories, so I hope I did an okay job on this story. I hope you enjoy, and Happy Birthday Amandine!

The Party Don't Start till 10 Dogs walk in

When Peter left the Avengers tower, he tried not to look too depressed. Everyone had seemed so normal before he'd left. Steve had asked where he was going - to the comic book store - and to call him if he needed a lift - he didn't, but Steve was always nice that way and he had a sick motorcycle so Peter liked to call him from time to time just to brag about his cool uncle who had a cool motorcycle. Bruce had told him to be careful while sipping his coffee, and Natasha had nodded in approval without lifting her eyes from her phone. Wanda has asked him to bring her back the new issue of Super Starforce Guardians if it had come out – it hadn't, he knew the next episode wasn't due for another week and a half at least. Only Vision had seemed slightly off, but it was Vision, he was always a bit off, especially when Wanda was around. And to top it all off, just as he had been about to walk through the elevator door, Mr. Stark had called him back. He'd turned around, hopeful, but Mr. Stark had smiled and declared:

"Be back before five, and if you find anything suspicious, you call before you act."

Peter nodded because it was what he always did, and replied:

"Yes, Mr. Stark."

Yes, everyone had been completely normal, like on any normal day. But this wasn't a normal day. It was Peter's birthday, and everyone seemed to have forgotten about it!

Peter sulked his way to the comic book store, hands in his pockets and feet dragging on the old broken concrete of New York streets. The Avengers had forgotten. MJ had forgotten. Ned had forgotten. Even aunt May had forgotten. Aunt May! Who would wake him up with the promise of diner pancakes and a trip to the museum when he was a kid. She marked the date on their calendar every year when they bought a new one. It was the first thing she did, and he knew because he used to be the one circling the date for her! Had she forgotten because he was living with the Avengers now?

He was pulled out of his dark thoughts by the sound of dogs barking ahead of him. He frowned. He was in an alley, a shortcut which would bring him to a larger street, just two blocks from the comic book store. The barking continued, and he caught the glimpse of a small group of dogs running down the street. Their barking shifted to his right, to one of the alley adjacents. He then saw a white van, unidentified, rushing way above the speed limit, after the dogs, and heard the sound of tires burning on the asphalt. He quickly checked on either side of the street and was about to jump on the side of the wall, to crawl atop the building, when a small high-pitched bark made him look to his left again. A small dog, a Jack Russell from what he could tell, was standing at the end of the alley. Peter approached it carefully.

"Hey there buddy. What's going on?"

The small dog was probably white, though its fur was grayish, dirty and full of dry sewage water. It had a few brown spots on it, including one on its side which Peter thought looked like a heart.

"You okay?"

The dog let Peter pet its head tentatively, but once it seemed to understand Peter wouldn't harm it, it instead began to tug on his sweater sleeve with its teeth.

"Wow there! What's going on? Where do you want me to go?"

A sudden shiver ran through his entire body and settled at the top of his neck uncomfortably. He could hear more barking, though this one was angry. Growls soon followed. Peter didn't hesitate. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and opened it with complete disregard for the zipper. He pulled out his suit. He had probably beaten his changing into his suit record, but it didn't matter. Meanwhile, the Jack Russell stared at him and continued to bark. Peter didn't think. He picked it up and webbed himself to the top of the building.

With the Jack Russell under one arm, Peter ran the length of the roof and looked down at the alley on the other side. The white van was parked at the entrance of the alley, blocking the path almost completely. Three guys had walked out of it, dressed in black and torn denim clothes, with tattoo peaking out on their arms and necks. They were trying to catch a group of half a dozen dogs or so, with ropes and tasers. Peter was very sure these weren't Pound agents. No, these guys were bad guys.

Peter was about to jump down when he heard the little dog under his arm growl. He had almost completely forgotten about it.

"Ready to be a hero, little guy?"

The dog continued to growl. Peter jumped down and landed lightly on top of their van, the roof of the vehicle barely bending under his weight. His entrance had been so subtle the bad guys hadn't even noticed him yet. He let go of the Russell, and the little dog continued to growl, all teeth out, standing proudly at Peter's feet. Peter cleared his voice, and finally, the bad guys noticed him:

"Well, well, didn't know the Pound's budget had been cut."

Not his best line for sure, but he wasn't about to make a joke about poor dogs been used for dog fights. The bad guys didn't even try to ask him to leave them alone. One of them, with a mean snake tattoo on his neck, pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket.

"Woh oh!"

Before the man could shoot, Peter webbed his hand, and jumped off the van, doing a flip in the process. He pulled on the string, and the man's arm was pulled to the side, toward one of his companions.

"If you can't catch a dog don't try catching a spider!"

With one right placed punch – courtesy of Steve "I used to punch nazis all the time" Rogers - the man dropped his gun and was sent tumbling. His two partners were still armed with tasers, however, and one of them came very close to touching Peter. He barely avoided it. He didn't even have to punch the guy out of his way, however, because he suddenly dropped his weapon on the ground and jumped away. One of the dogs had bit his butt.

Before the last guy could react, Peter webbed him against the nearest wall. He did quick work of the other two, webbing them together to the front of their van. He bound their mouths for good measure and looked at the dogs behind him. There were seven here, including the Jack Russell. Peter counted a Chihuahua, a white Mastiff, a German Shepard, and three he couldn't identify, probably cross-breeds or some race he didn't know.

"Alright guys, be careful next time you see a van, cause it's probably not the wiener guy."

He was about to leave them there, but he turned around one last time. He smiled at them under his mask.

"Good luck."

He webbed his way back up and over the building, to where he'd left his clothes and bag. He changed quickly and continued on his way.

He had just arrived at the comic book store when he suddenly heard barking from the other side of the door. He was sure he'd heard this particular bark before. He turned around. It was the Jack Russell from before, yapping at him through the door of the shop. Behind him, there were even more dogs than before. Peter quickly looked around, and most people in the shop seemed confused as to why there were a dozen dogs outside. Peter quickly walked out.

"Oh boy..."

He walked a few steps away and all the dogs followed him. He found three new dogs among them, with torn ropes around their necks. He wondered whether they'd been inside the van this whole time, and the other dogs had set them free. There was a big scary black dog – Peter had forgotten the name of its race – a small Husky, probably a teenager, and a brown Labrador.

"Guys, you have to stop following me."

All the dogs yapped at him, and he cringed. They were loud together, and they would surely attract a lot of attention, and not the good kind of attention. He quickly pulled out his phone, feeling panic rising in his chest. He called his emergency contact.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hey, kid! Found everything you wanted? Ready to come home?"

"No, I have a situation here!"

"Situation? Define situation."

"It's complicated."

"No bad guys I hope?"

"No, Mr. Stark, but..."

"Alright, you know what, I'm sending someone your way. Don't move, they'll be right there."

By someone, of course, Tony meant Happy. Happy, who arrived in a limo, and found Peter seating outside of the comic book store, with ten dogs seating around him. They all began to growl when Happy approached, utter confusion on his face.

"I think they've adopted me," Peter explained.

Happy sighed.

"Can you help?" Peter asked.

"I don't know."

Happy's watch began to beep on his wrist, and he suddenly seemed torn between taking Peter home or leaving him here.

"You think they're going to leave you alone if you go inside the car?"

Peter shook his head.

"They're probably going to follow it. I tried going back inside the shop and they followed. All of them."

"Okay."

Happy continued to approach carefully, hands in the air to show he wasn't a threat. He counted them mentally.

"I think we can fit them all in the car. We'll see about the rest when we get to it."

Happy's plan didn't seem like the best of ideas, but Peter really didn't have a better one. He'd tried again and again to tell them to go, to tell them to just wait outside the shop for him, but no. They absolutely wanted to stick to him. When he stood up, all the dogs stood up as well. Happy had to move aside when they moved like a sea toward the car. The little Husky, however, stuck behind, looking at Happy with his big puppy eyes.

Peter entered the limo first, and one after the other, all the other dogs walked in. When all ten dogs were inside, it became rather claustrophobic, but Peter didn't complain. The Jack Russell came to rest on his lap, curling there and almost falling asleep during the short ride. All the other dogs were actually quite well behaved, though a few of them started scratching at the seats.

They all made it in one piece back to the Avengers tower, and Happy came to open the door all ten dogs walked out, Peter behind them. They waited, looking around, probably wondering what they were doing here.

"You think Mr. Stark is going to be okay if I walk in with ten dogs?" Peter asked.

"Only one way to find out."

Peter sighed and walked into the building, all ten dogs behind him. The ride inside the elevator was even worse than the car, but thankfully they quickly reached the top. Peter was deep in thoughts, thinking about what he was going to tell the others when the doors to the elevator opened. All the dogs began to pour out the small elevator case, and a loud: "Happy Birthday Peter!" rang.

Peter looked up, stunned. Everyone was here. Mr. Stark, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Vision, Wanda. Ned and MJ. Even Aunt May. Even Thor and Clint. They were all standing in the Avengers' living room, under a large Happy Birthday streamer. The dog began to wonder curiously among all his friends and family and none of them seemed remotely confused about the situation. His dog problem had completely made him forget about the fact they'd forgotten his seventeenth birthday. But they hadn't!

Mr. Stark came to wrap an arm around his shoulders and dragged him away from the elevator.

"Did you really think we had forgotten?"

Peter was stunned. He tried to speak, say something, but Tony only smiled and chuckled:

"But don't think you can keep all ten dogs just because it's your day, alright?"

The party was a huge success, and it somehow felt even more complete with ten dogs in the living room. Everyone seemed to find a dog who suited them. Of course, the Jack Russell, which Peter had nicknamed Buddy, stuck to him like a spider to its web. Wherever Peter went he followed, always claiming the spot beside him on any couch Peter sat on. At one point Aunt May sat beside him and picked up the Jack Russell. It didn't complain, just curled on her lap and slept there.

The white Mastiff could be seen hanging near Thor, and Peter could swear every time the god of thunder passed his hand through the animal's fluffy but dirty fur it began even puffier than before. The German Shepard found good company in Steve, who scratched the dog behind his ears almost unconsciously. Peter thought it kind of made sense that a typical police dog would stick with Steve. The big black dog laid at Natasha's feet through the entire party, like a guard dog. It made her even more terrifying to approach than before. The Labrador and Clint spent most of the party playing together, and Peter was actually pretty sure they'd broken something while playing fetch.

The baby Husky spent most of the first hour staring at the elevator door. A few people tried to approach him and bring him away from the door, but he returned there inevitably. But when the doors opened and Happy walked in with even more ordered food, the Husky almost toppled him. Thank god he was a small one, or else he would have destroyed a fortune worth of food in a single hug. After that, the little Husky stuck to Happy like glue. The bodyguard pretended to be annoyed by it, but everyone saw him petting the puppy from time to time.

Finally, MJ, Ned, and Wanda played with the three little cross-breeds, Peter joining them when he wasn't being pulled left and right by others. At one point, Tony pulled him aside:

"So, about the dogs, you know we can't keep them all."

Peter pouted.

"Are you sure Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah. I mean, think about Vision, I'm sure he's allergic."

"On the contrary."

The both looked at Vision, who had the Chihuahua under his arm, and the little dog seemed to have fallen asleep, tug under the arm of the warm android.

"I believe I now understand the appeal of dogs. Thank you, Mr. Parker."

"Hum, sure. No problem."

Vision walked away with the Chihuahua under his arm. Tony chose not to comment on it.

"You can keep them today, but tomorrow we are finding proper houses for those dogs, alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled.

"Happy Birthday Peter."