The rating is only for technically adult, but still pretty tame, language. Which tends to depend on who's talking anyway (Jessica. It's Jessica.)

This fic is actually almost finished and not a WIP, I'm just posting as I tidy. IKR! [update: this is now filthy lies, I'm going the scenic route]

"No-no-no-no-no – Karen! You can't, okay. Don't tell Mr Stark." Peter wished, not for the first time, that Karen was actually there in front of him. If only so there were slightly fewer shaky, cellphone videos of Spider-man, standing on rooftops and waving his arms like he was trying to shoo pigeons.

There was probably a YouTube compilation already. There were probably two.

"The protocols are very clear," Karen said.

He crossed his arms and aimed for a level, reasonable tone; sometimes it worked on May. Okay, it never worked on May. "You're supposed to help and keep me safe, right? If you tell Mr Stark, that's not helping."

"However, it is keeping you safe, which, by extension, is helping."

Peter wondered if was even slightly possible that Karen and MJ had started hanging out. Because it seemed like they'd have a lot in common. Really a lot.

"Okay," he nodded. "But I kind of think I need to point out, if I have to turn you off to stop you talking to Mr Stark, then you're not helping or keeping me safe. Mr Stark should probably - there should probably be a protocol for that."

"Peter? Peter, what have you-"

Silence. No tell-tale buzz of comms in his ear. Peter raised his cell. "Ned?"

"Chair Guy," Ned said. "No, I need a cooler name. Turbo? Anyway, Karen's offline."

"Great, but Turbo's a snail," Peter said, and wandered towards the edge of the roof, refusing to feel guilty.

"Not Turbo. I'll think about it. Maybe you could think again too. Remember what happened the last time we tried to handle everything on our own?"

"We stopped a whole plane full of StarkTech being stolen and I got asked to join the Avengers." Peter rushed on, before Ned could mention anything involving ferries, the Washington needle, or that time in fifth grade with the rocket. "I got this! We got this! You still my guy in the chair? I can't do this without you. Please."

"The Spectacular Chair-man," Ned said grudgingly. "That's not a snail, right?"

"Going to go with 'no,'" Peter decided, after deliberation.

"If you can't ask Mr Stark, what about those other guys?"

"You mean, like … Ms Romanov? Because I don't think-"

"I mean that guy in Hell's Kitchen? Daredevil. That's a cool name. Or there's a PI and she's really strong," Ned enthused, warming to his idea. "And there's Luke Cage in Harlem. He's really strong too. And I think indestructible? And … there was something about a guy with a glowing hand, but that's probably fake. They were at Midland Circle. It's on Twitter - read the news sometime."

Oh. Right. "Why would they help me? The entire city thinks I'm a - a crazed kidnapper! Anyway, Mr Stark said I should stay away from them."

"No one's saying you're crazed," Ned said, failing to make him feel any better at all. "They might not help Spider-man, but maybe they'll help Peter Parker. You can ask. I really think you should ask."