By Peter
Part 3
Disclaimer: No, I’m not Stan Lee, so I don’t own Spider-Man. Peter, MJ, Harry, JJJ, and the rest of our colorful cast are the property of Marvel Comics. I don’t own them.
Rating: PG-13
Category: Peter/MJ. Come on…like there’s any other fan base out there yet.
Spoilers: Takes place after the movie. Say…a week.
Spider-Man was clinging to a lamppost, after dark. In his hand was yet another book. This time ‘Sherlock Holmes And The Hound Of The Baskerviles’.
“Nothing,” he said out loud.
This was getting more frustrating by the moment. Twice in the past few days someone had tried to kill Mary Jane Watson, someone who was very important to him. Both times it was by something that shouldn’t even exist.
Today, however, there was a voice attached to the threat. A deep, ominous voice.
Yeah, he thought. Probably not even the guy’s real voice. If it was a guy at all.
Spider-Man shot a webline to a nearby skyscraper and swung away. As he glided through the concrete canyons, he was completely lost in thought.
Who would want to kill MJ?
Whoever it was, it was obvious they were keeping their identity a secret. Which meant one thing: detective work. Which is why Peter had spent the better part of the night reading about detectives. Sherlock Holmes, the Hardy Boys…heck, he even went so far as some Batman comics.
Who was he kidding? Peter was a science whiz, not a detective. Thugs with guns, and even flying nutcases with mad-ons he could handle. This was just a little beyond him.
Ok Parker, he thought. What’d you learn from the old Sherlock? First find a suspect with a motive. Who’d have a grudge against MJ?
Norman Osborn? No, he’s dead.
Harry? Somehow I can’t see it. Harry loved her…me on the other hand…
Flash Thompson? Yeah, sure…like brickhead would know where to start with mini-robots?
Her dad? Doubt it!
Sighing in frustration, he rounded a corner. It was no use…he knew what was really bothering him.
She knew.
Mary Jane had called him ‘Peter’ while he was in costume. Somehow, she had figured out he was Spider-Man. But how?
If nothing else, he was really lucky that they were the only ones in the room when it happened. But what about next time?
As much as Peter hated to admit it, there was only one way to solve both his dilemmas.
He had to talk to her.
*****
Mary Jane Watson looked up at the night sky, sighing. When did her life get like this? Being scared for her life, hunted by someone she couldn’t even see.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself…her nightgown blowing slightly in the wind.
What was she doing out here? MJ hated the cold. What, did she think that maybe she’d see him?
Him…Peter Parker.
Spider-Man.
As many times as she went through it in her mind, she still couldn’t quite believe it. Peter was smart, quiet, and polite. He was nervous around her. It made her feel…well…special.
Spider-Man, on the other hand, was different. He was hyper, confident, and always sure of himself. He made jokes and never doubted himself. God, could a mask really change a person that much?
The wind blew once again, and she heard a gentle ‘thump’ somewhere behind her. Then footsteps.
“Hey pretty lady,” a voice calls. “Come here often?”
MJ spun around to see Spider-Man standing a few feet behind her.
“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” he apologized. “I just figured we should…uh…”
“Talk?” she finished for him.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
“Someone did try to kill you today,” he reminded her.
She smiled. There he was, being cool and confident. Trying to pretend that nothing was wrong.
“So you decided to come protect me?” she asked him. “I’m a big girl.”
Peter took a deep breath.
Just relax, he thought. Just because the woman you love is standing right in front of you in her pajamas is no reason to lose your cool.
Somehow, that thought wasn’t too encouraging.
“You have any idea who it could be?” he inquired. “Is there anyone who’d want you dead?”
She shook her head.
“Just get to it already,” she said, a bit angry. “We both know why you’re really here!”
Surprised by her outburst, Spider-Man looks directly at her. The mirrored lenses hiding his eyes showing MJ her reflection.
“When did you know?” he questioned her, his voice quiet.
Mary Jane bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She turned the other way for a second, before facing him again.
“In the graveyard,” she said finally. “When you…when you kissed me. I felt something. Something that only two people had ever made me feel before.”
Spidey sighed in frustration. He should have realized it himself.
“Coupled with my little soliloquy the day before, you just put two and two together,” he concluded. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
She smiled at him.
“No…no, I’m glad I know,” she corrected him. “I just…a little confused. What do you do when you need to think?”
Spider-Man looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking it over.
“Someplace where I can be alone,” he told her. “A place no one else knows about. My private little piece of heaven.”
MJ looks at him.
“Take me there?”
He considered her request for a moment, not sure of what to say. Then, he stands on the edge of the balcony.
“Hey?!” she asked, a bit confused. “What are you?”
He extended his hand to her.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Mary Jane nods, and gives him her hand.
He’s…gentle. MJ knows for a fact that he can bend solid steel with those hands, but with her he seems almost tender. Like he’s afraid she’ll shatter.
He helps her up to the ledge, putting his arm around her waist.
“Now, hold on to me,” he instructs.
MJ wrapped her arms around him, holding tight.
Then he threw the two of them off the balcony.
Mary Jane’s eyes clamped shut, as the onrushing wind blew past them. Then, with a single motion…
…they headed back up.
Clutching onto a newly thrown webline, Spider-Man swings them back upwards, completely overshooting the entire building.
“WHHHA-HOOOOOOOO!”
They take off, traveling by one webline after another in fluid motions. After a few seconds, Mary Jane opens her eyes to see the spectacle happening around them.
At first she’s a little scared, and clutches tighter to her companion.
“It’s ok,” he reassures her in a soothing voice. “I’ve got you.”
The way he said it was different. He didn’t sound like the over-confidant hero anymore. For the first time, Mary Jane could see the man behind the mask.
Then she looked down…and was completely astonished.
Below her, the streets rushed by like streams of water. Like liquid cement. They were moving so fast that everything was a blur.
Spider-Man swung downwards, only a few feet from the ground. MJ thought that she could probably jump off and land safely, with only a few bruises if he only slowed down a bit. But the truth was…she didn’t want to.
Then, swinging upwards, she saw lights from nearby buildings. Dance clubs she’s been to before rushing past them, past stores closed for the night. They lit up the city like stars.
And the two of them raced by with alarming speed. It was almost like…almost like…
Go ahead, admit it, MJ thought. It’s almost like flying.
Finally, they reach their destination. The roof of a building, with a stone eagle-shaped gargoyle perched on the edge.
Spider-Man landed with uncanny grace, gently putting Mary Jane down.
“So?” he asked. “What do you think?”
She paused a moment to collect her bearings, looking around to see exactly where they were.
Then, without warning, she started laughing.
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, half giggling. “Did…did I just…we’re on the other side of town? In, what…five minutes?!”
“Four and a half, actually,” he corrected her.
MJ looked over the edge of the building at the street below. She could see Times Square from here.
“Wow!” she said.
“Yeah, it’s a huge rush the first time out web-slinging,” Spider-Man told her. “Air arachnid…the only way to fly.”
“Web slinging, is that what you call it?” she asked. It wasn’t exactly the first time she had been up there with him. But the other times her life was in danger. Tonight she actually, well…she enjoyed it.
She turned around to look at him.
“I’ll tell you this much, Tiger,” she smiled at him. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
A small chuckle escapes from Spider-Man’s mouth. He pulls off the mask to show Peter Parker’s face underneath.
“So, I guess this is where we have ‘the talk’, right?” MJ asked him. Her smile vanished, replaced by a worried look.
“No one else can know about this,” Peter told her. “Not Gwen, not Harry…not even Aunt May.”
Mary Jane’s eyes went wide. She had no idea.
“May doesn’t know?” she asked. “I mean, I thought…she’s your aunt.”
“And I’m the only family she has left,” he replied, sadly. “There’s no telling what she’d think of her nephew out there every night, risking his life. Which is why you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. If the wrong people ever found out…”
Mary Jane smiled again.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” she reassured him. “I promise…”
She put her arms around Peter and kissed him.
Peter, himself, was slowly loosing control. As many times as he thought about kissing her again…dreamt about it. All he wanted to do was hold MJ in his arms and never let go.
However, something was telling him not to. A deeper, nobler part.
Without hesitation, he breaks the kiss off.
“No,” he warned her. “I can’t.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.
“I can’t be involved with someone,” he informed her. “It’s not safe…your life would be in constant danger.”
“That’s just…” she attempted to argue, but Peter cut her off.
“The Goblin knew who I was,”
Upon hearing those words, her blood froze. She still had nightmares about the Green Goblin. That horrible grin, those glowing yellow eyes, and the cackle that sounded like the devil himself.
“He…he went after you because of me,” Peter recalled. “He knew what you mean to me, so he went after you. I can’t let that happen again. Ever.”
A single tear fell down her cheek. Peter attempted to brush it away, but MJ turned her back to him.
“So who was he?” she asked. “That…thing…tossed me off the Brooklyn Bridge, so I’d like to know who he is.”
“Was,” Peter corrected her. “He was Norman Osborn”
Her eyes went wide again, but only for a moment. She must be getting used to all those shocks.
“Harry’s dad?” she asked. “The guy was a jerk, but not a psycho.”
“Actually, he was,” he corrected her. “He had a multiple personality. Norman himself was innocent…he just couldn’t control the other part of him.”
Suddenly, everything clicked into place.
“Harry said Spider-Man killed him,” she informed Peter. “Did you…?”
He shook his head.
“It was an accident,” he recounted. “He tried to kill me, but the weapon backfired.”
“Does Harry know?” she asked.
“No,” he answered. “And I’d sort of prefer it to stay that way. He hates me now.”
Peter looked down sadly.
“Spider-Man, not you,” he corrected him.
Peter doesn’t comment.
“I’d better take you home,” he told her. “I’ll find the person who’s attacking you. I promise.”
Peter pulled the mask back over his face, and picked MJ back up. This time, however, she simply rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Spider-Man didn’t really object.
*****
Back at her apartment, Spider-Man lands on the balcony. He gently lets her back down to her feet.
“You’d better get out of here before Gwen gets home,” she warns him. “I don’t want to try to explain this to her just yet.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agreed. “I never wanted to hurt you, you know?”
“I know,” she whispered, sadly. “Just…you don’t have to keep secrets from me anymore, ok? If you ever need a friend…”
He smiled beneath his mask.
“Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea how good it is to know that.”
She smiled back.
“I’m going to look into some things,” he said, climbing onto the railing. “If I find out anything about who’s attacking you, I’ll let you know. Sweet dreams.”
With that, he swung off into the night.
“Night, Tiger,” MJ called out, though she knew he could no longer hear her.
She then turned around and went back towards her room. It would be a long time before she could get to sleep now.
A long, long time.
*****
Central Park…
Spider-Man leaped from his webline. With two quick flips, he landed directly on the stage of the wooden theatre. Fortunately they hadn’t disassembled it yet.
Ok Parker, he thought. What are you hoping to find here?
He searched around, his eyepieces reflecting the moonlight.
Unfortunately he couldn’t see anything. He should have brought a flashlight or something. Maybe even inferred, or a black light. Heck, a match would suffice.
Spider-Man brushed open the curtain and peered inside. He didn’t even know what he was looking for. Footprints? That animal was so huge, it would have left very noticeable ones.
What was that thing the old Sherlock said? ‘When you’ve eliminated the possible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth’.
Using that logic, then if a couple-thousand-pound animal is intangible, leaves no footprints, and disappears, it’s either a ghost, or…
…or was never even there?
How could he have been so stupid? The answer was so obvious that a child could have figured it out. There he was, Mr. ‘big shot scientist’ and he missed the answer when it was right under his nose.
A glint of metal caught his eye from underneath the cast’s refreshment table. Spider-Man overturned it, inspecting.
Sure enough, there was a mechanical device, roughly the size of a videocassette, taped to the bottom of the table.
“Jackpot!” he said aloud.