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MJ and Peter are cleaning the kitchen after dinner, May having gone to put May and Ben to bed to "give them some time to talk". But there's less cleaning and more of making a bigger mess. And they're dancing for some reason when he feels eyes on him.
"I know you guys are spying," he says, spinning so he can look over MJ's shoulder where, in fact, both Mays and Ben are spying on him and MJ under the kitchen table. "Aunt May, you're supposed to be putting them to sleep."
"But this is just so cute!" she argues.
"And I'm sure you've videoed it on your phone."
"And there's pictures."
"And there's pictures!" he repeats, looking at MJ with a sarcastic look on his face, to which she laughs at. "Fine, you irresponsible adult. Your babysitting privileges have just been revoked. Like, all the way. No more babysitting for you. Come on, my beautiful kiddos. Bedtime."
"Will you tell us a story?" Ben asks.
"Or read us one?" May asks, looking at Peter, then over to MJ. "Miss MJ, will you read us a story before bed?"
"I sure will," MJ says. "Can I talk to Aunt May for a minute first?"
"Yes ma'am. I'll go pick out the story now!"
MJ chuckles. "You do that."
"Yay!" she says, running into her room. Peter picks Ben up and looks at MJ in confusion.
"You get Ben." MJ says. "I've got May."
Peter smiles gratefully, mouthing thank you.
When Peter's made his way into Ben's room, MJ turns to May. "Why's he so stressed out lately?" she says softly, mindful of Peter's super hearing.
"Call Tony." is all she says, giving her a piece of paper with the contact information on it. "And MJ? You've helped a lot. Just today. Thank you."
MJ smiles at her and May walks off to get ready for bed.
She goes over to the room Peter's in, where he's tucking Ben in bed.
"Daddy! I'm a taco now!"
"Oh, you are?" Peter smiles. "Well, is this taco . . . ticklish?"
"No!" Ben says through tears of laughter while Peter tickles him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
"Okay then . . . what kind of taco are you then?"
"Hmmm . . ." Ben thinks on that for a minute. "A pshtaco!"
"A fish taco?"
"Yeah!" Ben says. "Is it story time now?"
"Sure is, bud," Peter smiles. "Although, I don't have any stories about fish tacos . . ."
"Miss MJ?" she hears from beside her. It's May. She squats so she can talk to her more easily.
"Yes, Miss May?"
May swallows. "You can just call me May if you want . . ." she says. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Sure." MJ says, and May leans into her ear, cupping her hands around her mouth, and whispers loudly, "I don't want any stories about fish tacos."
MJ laughs, pulling back. "Do you wanna know a secret?" she whispers, and May nods. "I don't think I would, either."
May laughs, and MJ smiles.
"Will you come . . . read me a story then?"
"You like to read?"
May nods. "I love to read."
"Well, come on, then!" May smiles. "I have so many books . . ."
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As it turns out, all May really wants to do is talk. They get in one chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone before May speaks up.
"I'm sorry I was so mean to you today."
MJ looks up, then grabs a stray piece of paper and bookmarks the page. She looks at May, then. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm sorry for the way I acted today . . . I've never had to share Daddy before and now you're here and . . . I think Ben's right. I think you make Daddy really happy."
"I'm glad to hear that from you, May, and I forgive you."
"You know, I was sneaking around his room earlier. I didn't wanna believe him when he said you two were together in high school." she explains. "But I found a picture of you two. Aunt May says it's one from your-ohp."
"Europe?" MJ smiles.
"Yeah, that place." she continues. "You two looked . . . really happy."
"You are wise beyond your years, little one," MJ says. "Your dad and I were very happy together."
"Then why aren't you, you know . . . together?"
MJ sighs. "I think it's best that you ask your dad that question, yeah? And if he won't answer you, I will."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"I remembered Paige's friend's name earlier . . . aw man, I've forgotten his name again. He's not around much."
"That's okay," MJ tells her. "It happens."
"Yeah . . . and Miss MJ?"
"Please, just MJ." she smiles.
"Okay . . . MJ?"
"Yes, May?"
"Thank you for making Daddy so happy."
"I try my best." MJ smiles. "You know, you make him happy, too."
"I know, but . . . I think it's different. I think . . . I'm his daughter, you know? I think you're his . . ." May swallows. "You're his MJ."
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"Ned? Hey, yeah. It's MJ." MJ says into her phone. She thinks about what May said . . . what both Mays said. About what Ben said. And about dancing with Peter in the kitchen. She's still allowed to be happy around him because they never went wrong, but she can't help but feel something start to . . . rekindle. She's felt this way around Peter before, and only around Peter. Never anybody else she's dated.
"MJ, hey! It's so good to hear from you!" Ned's voice comes through the phone. "What's up?"
"Not much. You?"
"Same as you. Not a whole lot of new going on here . . . oh. Betty says hey."
"Hi, Betty!"
Ned talks off the line for a minute, presumably to tell Betty she said hey back, but it takes a minute or two longer than what it would have taken to just say that. "Oh, I'm sorry, MJ, can I call you back? Something's going on with the, uh, lighting again and I-"
"That's fine," she says, still not believing him. "Don't worry about it. Take your time." she says, then hits the red end call button on her iPhone.
May pops in her head again. Call Tony.
She slides her hand into her pocket, her fingers snaking around the crumbled piece of paper May had given her only a couple of hours ago.
Call Tony.
So she does.
"Hello?"
"Hi, uh, Mister Stark?"
"Tony, please," he grumbles. "jeez, you people make me sound like my dad . . ."
"It's MJ," she continues.
"MJ? From the Daily Bugle? Again?"
"I don't write for the . . ." she starts, then stops. "Okay, that's not the point. I have a question. It's about Peter."
"Wait. MJ . . . Peter . . . oh! Michelle, nice to hear from you again! How's it going?"
"I'm great, thanks for asking . . . Peter, not so much." she says. "I was wondering if you knew why he was so stressed out lately."
"Yeah, uh, a lot of us are confused about that lately. I told him to stop working so much . . . not just as Spider-Man but as Peter, too, and then one day he told me he couldn't take over the business any more . . . gave it all right back to me. And Pep, of course."
"Right. But Tony . . ." she swallows. "I don't think he's working at all right now. I mean, he's got a couple loose dollars in his pocket, but he said he was running late to something earlier. After we dropped his kids off at school, he said it was over, and that it was just a meeting. Nothing important."
"Peter was supposed to have a job interview this morning . . ." Tony replies. MJ can hear the frown in his voice. "I'm gonna call him."
"No, don't!" MJ says. "I don't think he knows I've noticed. I wanna help . . . without him knowing I'm trying to figure out what's up with him."
"Okay, I understand," Tony relents. "And I know Peter . . . he won't let anyone in that head of his, much less ask for help. He . . . he needs to feel like he can do everything, you know? He loves those kids so much and he needs to think that he raised them all on his own . . . it's a little messed up, yes, and hard to explain, but it's an understandable feeling."
"I know. Believe me, I know."
"Yeah, and I'll tell you what. You should talk to Paige. Here's her contact info . . ." Tony rattles off her number, to which she throws the phone between her shoulder and her ear and scribbles down on the nearest notepad with the nearest pen, which is in her pocket. "She probably doesn't know a whole lot more, but . . . she probably knows more than we do. You know, with that unspoken bond that siblings have or whatever."
"I've got two sisters. I know all about that." she replies. "Thanks, Tony."
"No problem, kid. Hey, I've read your articles, too. You're great. Pep loves them too." Tony swallows. "I know it's not my business, but can you try and keep me updated? On Peter, I mean. Sometimes, no, all the time . . . I'm always worried about that kid, reasons or no reasons."
MJ smiles. "That's understandable. And thank you for the compliments. And, yes, I'll try to keep you updated . . . alright. Bye, Tony."
Talk to Paige, Tony said.
She yawns. It's late. She can do that tomorrow.
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She doesn't go to the coffee shop today, instead opting to make tea in her kitchen. She's still in pajamas, and it's noon. Today's her day off. She thinks about how fuzzy socks and pajama pants and large sweatshirts and hot tea seem much nicer in the winter than in the summer before immersing herself in the wonderful world of television.
It's only when she gets up to make "lunch" only an hour later that she realizes she never called Paige.
"Oh!" she says. She's usually organized . . . messy, but organized. How could something this important slip her mind like that?
She runs over to the couch after putting her food in the microwave and grabs her phone and pauses the TV before running back into the kitchen, scrambling toward the notepad. She frantically taps the number into her phone switches ever so often between tapping her foot and pacing back and forth while it rings.
Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system . . .
"Ughhhh," she groans, throwing her head back in annoyance. Her microwave beeps then, and she flings the door open, ready to enjoy her food.
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There's banging outside. It's not on her door, but it's incessant banging coming from just down the apartment complex hallway. She picks up her TV remote, hits pause, and sets it back down on the table along with the soup she'd been eating. No, she did not have soup for breakfast. Soup is an acceptable snack.
She unfolds her feet from under her, letting out a small ow! when they pop as she stands up, and stretches and rubs them before heading over to the door, prying it open.
"I told you, I'm getting it!"
"This is a free country, not free real estate!"
"I know. We're just . . . we're just struggling right now, alright?"
"That's been your excuse for the past three months, Parker!"
"No it hasn't and you know it!" Peter yells. "We're working on it. I swear!"
"Well, y'all better work harder. You're on the brink of getting thrown out of the apartment!"
"Well, maybe you guys should work harder!" Peter retaliates. "We pay our rent the best we can and this dang door still isn't fixed. It's been two years!"
"Why, I oughta . . ."
MJ slams her door as loud as possible before walking over. She crosses her arms over her chest so nobody notices she's not wearing a bra . . . she'd forgotten about that in all her fury. "What's going on over here?" she laughs. "At this rate you'll wake up all of New York!"
"Get lost, kid. This doesn't concern you." the man who was previously yelling at Peter growls at her.
"Uh, it does, actually. I live right down the hall, see?" She says, pointing and giving a fake smile. "If I'd have been asleep, I'd be extremely mad right now, and I'd hate to report a disturbance."
The man growls. "Who are you to interfere with this?"
"I am a . . . very good friend of Peter here." she says, gesturing toward him. "And he means it when he says he's struggling. And two years to fix a freaking door? That's terrible upkeep that I might complain about as well . . ."
"What's your point, lady?" the man spits.
"What's the rent?"
"Not enough, it's outrageous" the man grumbles. At the same time, Peter groans "too much. It's outrageous". The two look at each other.
MJ slips her hand into her sweatshirt pocket, which contains her wallet. She pulls out three $100 bills. "There's three hundred. Get lost." she says, throwing the money at him. "And I wasn't lying about complaining!" she says as he walks off, muttering colorful phrases about her and Peter and 'kids these days' as he walks off.
"You didn't have to do that," Peter says, turning to her. "You weren't actually sleeping, were you?"
"No. I'm more of a night owl." she smiles. "And I wanted to do that. I hate him anyway."
Peter laughs. "I think this whole apartment complex hates him. Everyone's gonna hold a party now, send you flowers and gifts just for complaining."
MJ laughs. "That'll be the day."
"Yeah," Peter scoffs, and then turns around. "Oh, uh, I think I might have accidentally woken Aunt May up, and she, uh, has a night shift tonight."
"Oh, well, uh . . . good luck with that, then." she says, then reaches her hand into her wallet. "Here's a hundred." she holds it out to him.
"What?" his eyes widened. "No, MJ. I can't do that."
"Please?" she asks. "Please, Peter. I insist." She forces the bill into Peter's left hand.
"Okay, fine. Just this once." he says, looking at the bill in his hand guiltily. "I'll pay you back. All of it."
"No you won't."
"Yes, I will. And I can! I just . . . need some time. I don't need your charity."
"It's not charity, Peter. And I never said you couldn't do it. I just want to help." she says, wrapping her arms around him slowly. "I know you can do it."
He just tucks his head under her chin.
A few minutes of that go by before they break apart. They'd gotten a few get a room!s, but had just ignored them because, at that moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. It was a good feeling.
"Thanks, MJ," Peter says slowly, wiping at his eyes. "I really needed that." he bites his lip, looks away, then directly down at his feet before looking back at her. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just . . ."
"I understand." She says knowingly. "But Peter . . . jeez, Peter, you know you have your whole family to turn to right? Please don't ever go through stuff like this alone. We're here to help."
"I know. I . . . I'll try. Baby steps."
"Baby steps," she agrees. Peter looks down at his dinging watch.
"Oh! I have to pick up Ben and May from Tony . . ." he says, grabbing his keys from inside. He then turns back around, closing the door, muttering to himself about this stupid freaking door before looking back at her. It looks like he's expecting her to say something that he doesn't want her to say, like he's already ready to turn her down over it. But he instead settles for a small, quiet "thanks."
"Anytime, Peter." she smiles. "It's like I said, I'm always here for you."
He nods, smiling, looking down and looking at her again. "And I you."
They say their goodbyes and go their separate ways.
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As it turns out, one Paige Parker prefers texting over calling because when she comes back into her apartment and checks her phone, she's got about ten messages.
Three from Paige and the rest from Ned.
who is this and how did you get this number
oh, mj! sorry about that. tony just told me he gave you my number.
how have you been? it's been a while
She laughs. Understatement of the century. And, of course, Paige still texts like a teenager.
I'm good. How are you?
And you're right. It has been a while.
im good
tony said you had some questions about peter
i don't know much either tbh w u
sorry :(
Oh, it's okay if you don't know anything.
She sends that message at the same time that she receives:
meet me by the coffee shop in ten
the one on queens boulevard
MJ pockets her phone, grabs her keys and leaves.
Of course, right after locking her apartment door.
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"Look, I don't know much either, to tell you the truth," Paige says, taking a sip of her tea. "I'm sure Tony gave you the whole sibling-telepathy-communication or whatnot, and that's true in some cases. I mean, we can't actually communicate telepathically or anything, like he convinced the entirety of the Avengers we could do once. It's just this . . . bond that siblings have. Especially close ones, like Peter and I. But some things . . . you can't tell. Some things you keep to yourself."
"Can you tell me what you do know?"
Paige takes another sip of her tea. "Look, all I know is that Peter's in between jobs right now, has two kids, and that I have to go fix his door tomorrow." she says. "But I know he's in trouble, too. Not just as Peter, but . . . as Spider-Man too. It's that sibling thing and my nonexistent spidey-sense kicking in."
"Wait. You don't actually have the spider . . ." MJ flicks her hands around. "powers or whatever?"
"Nope. All from the suit."
"How has Spider-Girl been lately?"
"Spider-Girl has been . . . kind of lonely, honestly. No Spider-Man to keep her company."
"You don't have a Karen?"
"What, like the AI? No, not yet," she sighs. "But I'm working on it."
"So, Mini May informs me you have a 'friend from school'," MJ grins. "Tell me all about it. It's not still that one dude from Midtown, right?"
"Who, Philip? Like Philip Stacy? No. He and his family moved to Europe. A few weeks after we got back, actually."
"Aw. That sucks."
"No, not really." Paige says. "About a week after we got back, we started arguing. A lot. But he left, so it's over and done now."
"So you have a new friend, I'm assuming?"
"Well, there's this one guy . . . there's nothing going on, I'll say that. But little May and Ben spy on us any chance they get. Sometimes Aunt May, too. I once caught Tony and Peter spying. Pepper gave them the scolding of a lifetime."
"That's hilarious," MJ says. "So, is there anything I can really . . . do to help Peter out? I've been doing little things, but . . ."
"I understand, and sometimes that's all it boils down to, MJ." Paige says. "I've currently got SI under control. And with Peter, being the way he is-"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Peter kind of has some . . . abandonment issues, I guess?" Paige sighs. "Look, here's the thing with Peter. He's lost his parents and he's lost Ben. I wasn't around when Ben died, and I was just a newborn when our parents died, so I don't remember as much. With Peter, it's kind of like . . . a ride or die situation."
"I don't think I'm following."
"Well, it's like, a, uh . . ." Paige thinks, then grins. "It's like a one-way ticket."
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