[ Peter still ate a few, because he didn't want to starve himself and put the mission at risk, but he also got drunk beforehand because...ew, no. Just no. Fuck snakes. He wasn't taking that shit while sober.

Peter has his helmet on when he arrives, as well as his knapsack. The helmet makes him easier to blend in among the rest of the people here, and it saves him the trouble of people recognizing him. He taps the side as soon as he reaches Natasha, and the helmet retreats into a small metal device behind his right ear. Poor Natasha looks like she could use a decent break. ]

No, it was no problem. I brought you a couple things. Shall we go somewhere more private?  Sitting down and away from prying eyes might do us good.