2019-05-12 - Step Into My Laboratory...

Summary:

Labs are showed off, secrets are revealed. Fun times.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun May 12 00:00:00 2019
Location: 20 Ingram Lane, Forest Hills, Queens, NY

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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helena-waynepeter-parker

Peter is working on getting all the books he is going to need for the fall session of ESU and working on his valedictorian speech at the same time. He plops down in the overstuffed couch at one end of his basement lab. Others have man caves, he has a man lab. He looks at his phone, then ponders. Should he? Could be? Maybe not…

HEY, HELENA. PETE. IS THIS A BAD TIME?

Too late. He sent the text.

It doesn't take long for the text to come back. With all the news about the Batman, Helena has all sorts of alerts set up on her phone, so when she feels it buzz, she checks it. And she's grateful for the distraction, dropping into a chair in the den.

Finals are 'finally' over. ;) Though, you know, life. Parents are being weird. You?

A pause. Quite a few minutes.

Working on a few projects. Hey…can you get away from Castle Wayne for awhile?

Helena smirks at the question, glancing around herself.

Yeah, defenses are down. Where to? Need a ride?

And then half a second later: Don't worry, no driver, just me.

Peter smiled and tapped out his response.

20 Ingram Avenue, Forest Hills, Queens, New York. You can see my lab and Aunt May can make you the best apple pie you've ever tasted.

Helena hops off the chair, grabbing herself a jacket on the way to the garage.

Be there soon. :)

"Alfred!" she calls, snagging a set of keys from a drawer by the door. "I'm heading out. Might not be back for dinner, but I should be back before Mom and Dad are out for the night." She steps out and gets onto a low-profile motorcycle. It's nothing bat-special or vintage - just a moderately high-end machine that works better in city traffic than something that takes up more space.

It does, however, take significantly less time than it ought to for her to pull up in front of Aunt May's, pulling off her helmet and taking a quick second to check her hair in the mirror. Is it okay? Not too…helmet hair? Good enough, at least. And then she's jogging up to the front door, shaking a hand through her hair and straightening her jacket. Just be normal, Helena. Totally normal. As normal as the daughter of Batman and Catwoman or Bruce Wayne or…

*BUZZ*

There is a quick creak of old wood. The house is decades old, 40's or 50's easy. Then the door opens and the old woman who answers is in her 70's, easy. But she smiles warmly and says, "You must be Helena. Come in, come in. Peter's down in the basement, but he asked me to guide you if he got caught up in something. Are you hungry? I can pour two glasses of Arnold Palmers. Lovely drink, half lemonade, hald iced tea. Would you like some?"

The house is old, but in excellent condition, and it has that look of years of love and warmth.

"Hi, Ms. Parker," Helena greets with a swift smile when the woman opens the door, following her inside. She does look around, but each glimpse brings a warmth to her smile. It might not be Castle Wayne, as Peter called it, but it definitely looks like any echoes are the good kind. "I think I'm all right as food goes, but a drink sounds great, thank you," she says politely. "I'm guessing Peter gets caught up in something often, huh?" she chuckles as she checks the doors, guessing which leads to the basement.

Aunt May chuckles wryly. "Oh, does he ever. But he has done some amazing things, Helena. Oh, dear, where are my manners? Helena, dear, please call me what Peter and all my friends call me." She smiles as she pours two tall glasses of lemonade, then iced tea. "Call me 'Aunt' May." She picks up the glasses and hands them to Helena. "Carry these, and I'll lead the way."

"Yes, ma'am, Aunt May," Helena grins, taking the glasses and stepping to the side to let Aunt May pass. Alfred would be proud. So would her parents, but when it comes to manners, Alfred's disappointment is a much more powerful deterence. "I know he's done some amazing things," she agrees. "His drone this year was great. I really look forward to seeing what he brings to the fair each year. And I'm sure your support is a big part of why he's able to do some of those amazing things."

May smiles wistfully. "Ever since his parents disappeared, all he's had was me and Ben. I gave him the love of a mother, and Ben taught him to be the kind of man he should be. It's not easy when there is a 12-year-old boy with an IQ of 250…but I think we did all right."

She opens a rear door, then flips a switch and the stairwell is lighted. She steps down, only slightly favoring her left hip.

Quietly, behind May's back, Helena shifts the glasses to one hand, keeping the other free near May's elbow just in case. "Well, if it's not presumptuous of me to say it, Aunt May, I think you've done an amazing job. He's…really great." Normally, 'really great' would probably sound like damning with faint praise. But the way Helena says it, as composed and articulate as she usually it, there's just a genuine warmth there. "I'm pretty sure I gave my parents a lot more trouble with a lot less to work with," she adds, wry.

The basement has been…extended. If Helena were to hazard a guess, it's been extended into the backyard. Reinforcement has been applied to keep it from becoming an issue. Almost the entire area has been converted into a laboratory. There is a full chemical lab along one wall, and another area is set aside for various fabrication machines, some very old, some new…or refurbished, like the mass spectrometer. A microtech bay sits in one corner, and a large backlit table dominates the center.

And, to ruin the illusion of a dedicated scientist, another corner has an overstuffed couch, a 50-inch TV, and two game consoles. A sign hung on the wall denotes this area as HARRY'S CORNER.

Peter is at the backlit table, looking over some papers. He looks up and smiles as Helena and Aunt May appear. "Hey!"

Once May reaches the foot of the stairs, Helena switches to one glass in each hand again, though she can't hold back her surprise when she sees how much basement there is. Her brows rise as she takes a few steps in, turning in a slow circle to see it all. She's no stranger to expanded basements, but she also knows exactly how much money has gone into the one at her house. Doing this on a budget? Even more impressive.

"Wow," she grins, turning as she takes it all in. "Peter, this is…awesome. Wow!" When she gets back to facing him, she's grinning broadly. "Aunt May thought you might be thirsty," she says, holding up one of the glasses.

Peter blinks, then nods. "Uhm, yes, I am." He walked over to Helena, then took one glass. "Thanks."

"Now, you two go own, and in a few minutes, the pie will be cool enough to serve." She smiles to Peter, then heads back up the stairs. The limp is worse, and he can't help but look as she heads up.
After Aunt May leaves, Peter smiles wanly. "Welcome to the lab," he says pleasantly. "Uncle Ben and I started work on it when I was 12…adding a piece here, a machine there…"

Helena watches May go up the stairs, lips twisting slightly as she does. The urge to step in and help wars with the knowledge that doing so would probably be seen as overstepping. Instead, she turns back to Peter, wiping away the worry with a quick smile. "It's ridiculous, Peter," she says, clearly meaning that in the best possible way.

"I mean geeze, just the engineering to build this down here, let alone sourcing the machines, repairing them…" She takes a sip of her drink, then carefully sets the glass where it can't do any damage. "No wonder you're coming up with such great stuff."

Peter takes a long sip and smiles. "I was pleasantly surprised at how refreshing this is the first time I tried it. You can put it on the table if you want."

He puts his glass down, and Helena gets a good look at the design on the paper. It looks like a low-profile bracelet with some sort of spray dispenser, and small thin blocks that seem to be loaded into the bracelet.

Helena's been practicing secrecy and controlling her reactions to things since before she can even remember. But when she gets a glimpse of that blueprint, it takes a massive effort not to stop and stare. "Yeah," she laughs, just a little awkward. "I wouldn't drink it in front of Alfred, though. That man has feelings about the sanctity of tea."

Picking up the glass again, she turns back toward him, giving Harry's corner an amused look. "You know, I never would have thought you and Osborne would be friends. But he seems less…well. Osborne. Around you." A beat. "That's actually a compliment. I realized as soon as it came out of my mouth that it probably sounded like I was angling somewhere? But I am so not. I mean. Not angling at that. Uh."

Well, that's one way to distract from the blueprints.

Peter smiled. "Harry's a good guy. He doesn't deserve all the Crazy he has to deal with. He told me once that he knows that I only see him as "Harry" as opposed to 'Harold Osborn' oe 'OsCorp's heir.' That I wouldn't ask him for a penny, even if it was for a good cause. So…I'm his friend. One of the few he's got." He smiles fondly. "He'd probably have kittens if he knew you were down here."

"That part, I definitely get," Helena agrees, raising her glass in a small salute. "The being a friend instead of a name. People get weird about it. Hey, did I hear you got the letter and the ESU acceptance?" she asks, leaning against the table and taking another sip. "Because it'd be great if you were staying in town still."

Peter smiles sadly. "I'm the official breadwinner of the house now. I'm just glad I got offered a scholarship from Katherine Kane of Kane Industries if I won the science fair. Aunt May needs help. I can't just leave her to fend for herself, y'know? But I did, yes. Dr. Connors apparently had a lot of pull. I'm taking the Neuroscience program…I think that's my ideal field." He looks to Helena. "Jeez, I've spent all this time talking about myself and Harry. How are YOU doing, Helena?"

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Helena laughs. "It's nice to just sort of…" She wafts her hands toward herself dramatically. "Soak in the normality." A wink, and she looks up at the ceiling to consider her answer. "I'm okay. Mostly. I mean, I have nothing real to complain about," she adds quickly. "Really. But I'm kind of waffling about some things. That's great about Kane, though. Kate's my…" She squints, working it out. "I think it's second cousin? Dad's cousin, on his mom's side. Small world, huh?"

Peter blinks. "REALLY? Jeez, I had no idea. Miss Kane has this part-time work study thing set up for me while I'm at ESU. Lab assistant job." He hmmms…"Is it normal to feel slightly manipulated? Your father is a very powerful man, even if he is the quintessential party-guy."

"Yep, that's normal. Welcome to the club," Helena grins, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "But for what it's worth, he's been kind of busy lately, and I'm pretty sure he didn't know you existed before the science fair. Also, Kate's pretty independent. She doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. She's kind of a major badass, actually, so. If she hired you, it was because she believes in you."

Peter looks to Helena. "Well, as long as she doesn't ask me to do anything unethical." He looks thoughtful. "Got any projects you are currently working on?"

"Not Kate," Helena shakes her head without a moment of hesitation. "And if you're smart, I wouldn't suggest it in front of her either." At the talk of projects, she takes a deep breath, mulling it over. "I'm kind of in between big ones right now," she muses. "I mean, some little stuff, here and there. Part of the stuck and waffling thing," she admits with a crooked smile. "Promise not to judge me for sounding like the most whitest, privileged person in the world?"

Peter chuckles. "I hang around with Harry. I got used to that."

In the back of his mind, he is pondering it. Her mother IS Selina Kyle, after all, and her crimes are a matter of public record, even if she went straight. Besides…there's something about her. Something solid.

"I'm not sure college is the right path for me." Helena pauses, letting that sit for a moment. It's the first time she's said it to someone whose opinion she values. "I just…I'm not great at sitting in classes and leafing through books. I need to get my hands dirty, do things. See them in action. But Mom and Dad would have a serious cow. But I feel like if I do go, then I'm taking the chance away from someone that it might mean something to. Does that make sense?"

Peter looks thoughtful. "If you went on scholarship, a case could be made. And if your father bought your way in, a case definitely could be made. But if your parents can afford it, think about what *you* really want."

He pauses, taking a deep breath.
"Helena…can you keep a secret? I mean, a BIG one…?"

Peter Parker, you have no idea.

But the answer is yes, so Helena quirks a brow, a faint smile curving. "As long as you're not asking me to do anything unethical," she replies, echoing his earlier words, before she clears her throat and composes her features. "Yeah, of course. What's up?"

"Well…there's a reason I'm chronically late…or miss appointments…or have trouble holding a job. It's because of this…extracurricular activity I do a lot of. I'm worried that your father might take offense at something I do and send some kind of posse after me, so I want to tell you…so you'll know."

"Wow." Helena coughs back a laugh, covering her mouth with one hand, though the corners of her eyes crinkle in an almost familiar way. Wrong color though. And…maybe shape? But then she drops her hand again, and it's gone.

"Okay, Pete, I just- I get that there are some crazy rumors around Staten Island, so before you share something that you might not want to, I should tell you that my dad is definitely not part of the mob, and is not going to send any posses after you, okay? Also, you told me it was a secret, so even if he was and he was going to, then I'd just have to tell him that I couldn't tell him why, because secret."

She sets the glass down, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before fixing him with a steadier gaze. "Just…so you don't feel pressured. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

Peter chuckled. "I wasn't thinking the mob. I was just thinking 'billionaire protective father.'" He sighed, then walked over to one cabinet, taking out a red cloth object and laying out on the backlit table.
The red mask with the black lines and the stylized inserts for the eyes,

"I am Spider'-Man."

You're going to meet other young heroes, Helena. They're probably going to want to tell you who they are, Helena. You can't tell them who you are, Helena.

God, it's the worst when Dad is right.

Helena is quiet for a long moment, staring at the mask. "That…is a really good reason to be late." She leans forward to get a closer look at the mask, catching her lower lip between her teeth and rubbing the material between her fingers. "Jesus, Pete. And OsCorp's got-" She presses her lips together, brows furrowing in a tight frown. "OsCorp's got a bounty out on you, Batman's getting framed for murders. And you're telling me this?"

She looks up then, and it's an odd combination of expressions. Oddest, perhaps, because surprise is the smallest part of it. And worry may be the largest.

Peter smiled wanly. "Apparently you missed the big scoop of the weekend." He hunted around on the table near the door and found the newspaper. He hands to to Helena. (+bbread 11/20). "The Bugle broke the story on it."

"Oh, I read it." Helena pushes the paper aside. "My takeaway was that there's a crazy rich person who wants to go all Mengele on someone who's just trying to do the right thing and is willing to put an unhealthy amount of resources into it, which is why my dad was right to campaign against registration and-"

She drops her elbows onto the table, then her head into her hands, scrubbing at her face. "Why would you tell me this now?" she asks when she looks up. "What if I was some sort of horrible person who thought getting one more person who stops bad guys off the street would make my life easier?"

Peter looks at her for a moment. Then he smiles and taps his head. "I have an early-warning system up here that warns me of imminent threat. I call it my 'Spider-Sense.' The reason I felt about doing this was when I actually was about to show you the mask…nothing. not even a phone-vibrating sense of danger about it. That was when i felt I could go through with it."

"So it would warn you if I was going to punch you for giving me one more thing to worry about?" Helena asks with a faint smirk. "Is it working? How about now? How about now?" All she does, though, is pick up the mask and toss it underhand in his direction.

"Okay, so first of all, that's awesome. And second of all, if you go spreading that around based on the theory that because it feels safe when you're saying it without thinking about what someone might do with that knowledge down the road, I will punch you." All things considered, she's taking this awfully well.

"Do you call the basement your Spider-Web? Tell me that's not the name of the wifi," she teases.

Peter chuckles. "I don't have an official name for it. I think if…"

Then he stops, and abruptly says, "…and I think that if you use a shifting-frequency system like Bluetooth-"

"Hellooo?" Aunt May's voice came from the stairwell. "I hope you two are not canoodling…" She steps down, carrying two please, each with a slice of pie on it. The savory aroma of apple pie makes its way to Peter and Helena before the plates do. "I see you're having similar conversations that you did with yourself," Aunt May says with a smile.
"Helena's very smart, Aunt May…" Peter said, smiling in response.

So THAT'S how the Spider-Sense works.

"You're just in time, Aunt May," Helena grins as she arrives. "No canoodling. But what can I say? There's just something about a guy who knows his stuff, right?" Reaching out to take the plate, she shifts just enough to block any view of the webshooter blueprints. She really does take the secrecy thing seriously.

"Thank you. Wow, this smells great. Is that cardamom you've added?" Thank God for Alfred.

Aunt May smiles. "That's what the judges thought. It's actually a mix of a couple of special ingredients…which I will tell only in my will." She hands the other plate to Peter, then waves. "Don't be up too late."

When the door closes, Peter says, "THAT was the Spider-Sense working."

Helena lets out a breath once the door closes, looking over with an arch of her brow. "That is a really useful trick." She starts to reach over to set the pie down, then thinks better of it, taking a bite instead. "Oh wow," she mumbles around a mouthful, though she at least has the manners to cover her mouth. "You're right. That is the best apple pie."

Continuing to eat, she watches him carefully, weighing. "So. Aside from the threat of my dad sending a posse after you, and that you didn't get tingles telling you not to tell me. Can I take the need for a reason why you might be late or miss things as a sign that you might want to keep making plans in the future?" she asks, smile quirking.

Peter nods. "I figured you had a right to know. I've been the focus of so many misunderstandings. I thought maybe I should tell you so you wouldn't think the worst of me if I was late to a date, or ducked out suddenly. I respect you too much for that, and you have a very quick mind, which means you are very refreshing to talk to. And…well, you're very lovely, too." He blushes a little.

"For what it's worth? It would take something more serious than being late to make me think worse of you." Helena sets the plate aside, clasping her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting nervously. "You're…" She trails off, then laughs, throwing up her hands. "Spider-Man. Man. Can I pick 'em. All that aside, though? You're a freaking genius, Pete, and anyone who's ever held that against you is just dumb. Or jealous. And I get the jealous part, at least a little, but mostly it's just…It's like a work of art. Like looking at a Van Gogh and instead of feeling the wonder and the beauty and the power of it all just feeling like it's not fair that he could do it and you can't. And then you're kind, and you're responsible, and…"

Ducking her head, she rubs a hand at the back of her neck before cutting her eyes back up. "You're not so bad yourself."

Peter smiled sadly. "I'm not perfect, Helena. Until nearly two years ago, I was the target of some pretty bad bullying. Sometimes it was like torture. And when I did get these powers…the first thought I had was how I could make money from it. I was going to be a wrestler. Imagine that? Me, throwing the likes of the Rock and Triple-H around." He looks down at his glass.
"Then a burglar running from a cop went right by me, and I let him go. Why? Because…because I was 'looking out for Number One.' I told a cop that. Three weeks later, I see his face again…two hours after he killed my Uncle Ben. Right up there in the foyer of this house. It's MY fault he's dead…because I was selfish."

"No way. I've heard that one." Helena shakes her head, standing up and moving closer to set a hand to his shoulder. "And I've seen it do ugly things to people, too. Really ugly things." The recent revelations from her parents about what happend to Jason and the things he did are still fresh in her mind. "You wouldn't have been human if you hadn't had those thoughts. Also, for the record, fifteen-year-old boys are not known for their decision-making skills."

"But you didn't kill your uncle. A burglar did. It's a shitty coincidence. But it's not your fault." She pauses a moment, catching the inside of her cheek between her teeth. "Do you think your uncle would be proud of you now?"

Peter sips his drink. "I hope so. He told me something once when we were talking about drugs. I asked him what I should do if someone asked me to make something, like mix drugs in the lab. He looked at me and said this. 'With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.' I heard it, but it was only when I saw Carradine's face that I really understood it." He looked to Helena. "He said a mistake, no matter how bad, was forgivable it you never did it again. And I never have. Something happens that is wrong, I cannot stand by. Not ever again."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure it's forgivable if you do it more than once if it's actually a mistake and not a choice, personally," Helena smiles faintly. "But yeah. Great power, great responsibility. My Dad always tried to say more or less the same thing. His parents, my grandparents? They were good people. Did a lot to help the city, a lot of charity work. But they were killed by muggers when he was a kid. So he's spent his whole life trying to live up to their legacy, make their sacrifice worthwhile. And he's always told me that having money doesn't mean you don't have obligations. It means you have more obligations. Obligations to use that to make the world a better place."

She lets her hand fall from his shoulder to his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It means a lot, you telling me this. So. I know you're pretty independent and you've got things under control in your way, but if there's ever any way I can help? I'm in."

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