"Take A Break... Have A Kit Kat." {Peter Parker X Reader}

Preparing for the Gala

***AU: Some details will not be correct so that it fits with the story.***

***A FEW MONTHS LATER***

My new job at S.H.I.E.L.D. was amazing, turns out, they do have a coffee pot. They also have muffins, bagels, doughnuts, and anything else you might find in a food court. I was to be assigned my first protection detail mission later this week at a conference. I hate conferences, however, it turns out Alice will be there. Alice was promoted to be a representative of NCIS. Much to her father's disappointment. Alice was happy, and that was all that mattered. 

"Ms. Miller?" Someone asked. I looked up. Misty Miller was one of my identities. Fury didn't want my identity exposed so he told me to use this alias. Nobody here knows my name, except for my old unit. They've promised not to expose my identity though. Fury also knows my true identity. Of course he does, he's my boss... "Ms. Miller." The same voice asked in a slightly demanding tone.

"Is it important?" I replied, looking at a familiar face.

"Natasha's here to help you with your fitting... for the conference." He continued.

"Okay Clint, just let me finish this doughnut." I nodded.

"Do you want to fit into the clothes?" He retorted.

".... That's why it's called a fitting." I pointed out. He cursed silently under his breath, then let it go before walking off. I followed him, and soon we were in the helicarrier garage. Natasha was waiting beside a quinjet. 

"I was wondering when you guys would come." Natasha groaned, getting up from leaning against the jet.

"So are you guys still spies for S.H.I.E.L.D., as well as Avengers?" I asked. I was genuinely curious. 

"Sure." Clint replied.

"Fine, if you dont wanna give me answers, don't give me answers." I grouched. 

I was given a facial distortion device so people wouldn't recognize me. (Much like the one that Natasha uses to make her look like the council woman.) According to clint, my eyes had been blue, then brown, then green. Then I had freckles, no freckles. He was slightly creeped out which made me (slightly) happy.

It was funny to see the perplexed look on his face. His eyebrow would twitch at one corner, and he would try to guess what color my eyes actually were.

"Okay, are they blue?" He asked.

"Maybe."

"Green?"

"Perhaps."

"Brown?"

"Possibly."

"Black?"

"Perchance." 

"Purple?"

"Yes." 

"Red. Wait, what?" He asked. 

"Hmm?" I responded.

"Are they actually- oh.... I see what you did there you little sneak." He muttered.

"No, your eyes can actually be purple. It's a genetic mutation." I offered.

"... Whatever." He grumbled.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Natasha suddenly asked.

"I forgot you were here. I was tempted we were on auto pilot." I joked.