Spiderman Oneshots

British

Most people who knew Peter Parker knew that he'd been orphaned at the tender age of 5 and had moved to live with his aunt and uncle. Very few of them knew just how far he'd moved.

Take a wild guess, you're probably right (spoiler alert: it's in the title).

Correction: very few of them knew... until now.

"He's British?!" Was the first thing Peter heard upon entering the tower.

"Apparently. I was just updating the records, who knew I'd stumble across such a gem!" Came the laughing response.

"Can't wait to see his face when he finds out we know," was the last thing Peter heard before he passed out from blood loss.

"Welcome back," Tony said from Peter's bedside. He poked at the mostly-healed gunshot wound in his chest and gave a smile to Tony.

"Thanks. I'll just be going-"

"Not so fast, young man. The team wants to see you." Tony smirked, knowing that Peter had heard their conversation earlier.

Resigned, the teenager followed the billionaire into the main room, where the Avengers were assembled.

"So," Steve began with a small smile. "British?"

Peter sighed, telling himself that a dad joke was beneath him. "Technically, yes, but I'm a New Yorker at heart."

"You can use your real accent around us, we don't mind," Clint said with a broad grin, clearly ready to make fun of him. Peter rolled his eyes - it had been a bit like this when Ned found out, too. Not that he really tried to hide it, it just never came up in conversation.

"This is my real accent, Birdbrain. I've lived in the states most of my life."

"But... you're British..."

"I was born in England, but I grew up here just like everybody else. What, did you expect me to suddenly start spouting stuff like 'mate', 'cuppa' and, I don't know, 'blimey'?"

The Avengers shared a guilty glance. "Maybe?"

Peter huffed in exasperation, but he couldn't hide an amused smile at their antics. "Well, it isn't going to happen. I stopped saying lift, boot and lorry a long time ago, too, so don't expect any slip-ups on that front."

"What does boot mean?" Clint whispered, but was ignored.

"Don't you at least want some tea?"

Peter levelled a flat stare at Tony. "I don't drink tea."

The tension in the room went taut. He thought Tony might be about to have a heart attack. "But... you're British?" Was all he could manage.

"Yeah, doesn't tea flow in your veins?"

"What, like coffee flows in Mr Stark's? No, I don't even like tea that much."

You could hear a pin drop.

"Did you actually think it was a legal requirement for Brits to like tea? Not all Canadians play hockey and drink maple syrup, you know." Peter laughed at their dumbfounded expressions.

"Do you at least like talking about the weather?"

Peter gave him a weird look. "Who likes talking about the weather? I haven't been to England since I was a toddler, and as far as I'm concerned Queens is my home. If we're done here, I'd like a hot chocolate, please."

Peter drank his warm beverage in silence and then left, choosing to ignore whoever shouted after him to ask if he'd met the queen.