[for Selina]

There’s all of one reason I ever find myself on the beach, and that reason is Martha. I’m not a natural pet owner by any stretch of the imagination, but at some point, me and Martha fell into a kind of routine. She’s still dribbling water from an hour spent retrieving her favorite toy from the ocean, and I’m praying she’ll at least be somewhat dry by the time we get home. I’m trying to remember if I left the towels out in the living room when a sunbather catches my eye.

Except, as I realize when I get closer, she’s not just any sunbather. Even with the sunglasses hiding her eyes, I know that face.

“You!”

I was always taught it was rude to point, but I can’t help myself. Plus, I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I figure it’s probably ruder to rob a man blind — even if all his money is fake and he, let’s face it, kind of maybe deserved it.

The fact of the matter remains that Irena the Robbin’ Russian is apparently a real, living person and not some designer island trick.

“You!” I say again, stuck on that one word. I snap my fingers and drop my arm. “Why, I oughta—“

Oughta what, Parker? Report her? For a crime you can’t even prove, because everything disappeared? For getting the best of Tony Stark for one night? (Which, come on, you maybe got a kick out of. Just a little.)

I let out a breath, feeling my shoulders sag. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, then wave off my accusation with a deflated gesture.

“Ah, forget it.”

[for Tony]

I play my encounter with Selina cool until I can get Martha home, washed, fed and watered. But the thing is, it nags at me. It's not the sort of news a guy sits on, if only because...

Well, let's face it: there's not a lot of news around these parts that isn't depressing.

But this is better than good news. It's interesting news, and the only ears around to listen are Martha's, and she passes out in her doggy bed shortly after she's slobbered all over the kitchen.

So I do the only thing that makes any sense, which is tuck the dog in for the night, lock up, and follow the sound of classic rock blaring through the jungle to find Tony Stark.

I'm all nervous energy by the time I get to the Scrapyard, barking at Jarvis, "Turn down that noise, wouldja?" before I head straight to Tony and clap my hands to his shoulders, looking him right in the eye.

"You will not believe who I just met."