mk robinson wants to be a star. (hitjackpot) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-06-13 01:37:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | door: marvel comics, mary jane watson, spider-man |
WHO Peter and MJ.
WHAT Chatting, being cute, etc.
WHEN Recently, before Simon's party.
WHERE Parker house cellar.
WARNINGS Preciousness, talk of Tate crazy.
When MK finally crossed over the door again, Mary Jane shot Peter a text message to the tune of Cellar? Whenever you get this?, and changed into something to keep herself cool -- shorts and one of those midriff baring tops she had an affinity towards -- before making her way out of her house and towards his. It was strange to be back on her side of the door and to be in her own ‘world’. A place where enormous dragons and disgusting blue monsters weren’t the norm, per se, but she had seen them before. Unlike the people in MK’s Las Vegas, apparently. While they were all running around like chickens with their heads cut off, she couldn’t really be shocked. Worried, sure, and maybe a little scared, but like she told Damian, things got much worse on her side. They always did. Light spilled from the poor excuses for windows as she descended the stairs and illuminated the cellar enough that MJ could see around the cellar. She sat down in the chair at his desk and picked up one of the trinkets on there to roll around between her hands. Over the past month or so, MK hadn’t allowed her much time to actually be herself, not since whatever happened at Caesars. She knew something was wrong with the other redhead, but MK was holding out on her. Just like she was holding out on MK. There was that one time MK did come back to Passages, after all, but that was when she met Tate, and MJ had a feeling MK had other things to worry about than her teenage counterpart getting kidnapped. As she sat there and waited for Peter to come, she wondered whether or not she should let Peter know what happened. Peter was already on their side of the door when he got MJ’s text message, and began swinging back toward the house. Things had been weirdly quiet in New York, recently. In fact, they’d been much more quiet than things had over the past week in Las Vegas, on the other side of the door. Everything, it seemed, was flipping around. All he’d had to deal with on their side of late was regular, plain old street crime. It was odd, but a nice break from the usual parade of costumed, powered mayhem. He was blissfully unaware of the encounter MJ was thinking over when he came to a landing on a rooftop not far from home, and pulled his clothes and his backpack out from behind an electrical box. He pulled the clothes over his costume, shoved his mask into the backpack, and hopped down into an alley. Back at street level, he walked the blocks home quickly. After the talk he’d had with the girl on the forums (Harley Q - that sounded familiar) he was looking forward on clapping eyes on her and being sure she was safe and sound. He wasn’t too worried about the crazy girl, but hey, it seemed like the threats he didn’t take seriously sometimes ended up being the craziest. He pulled the cellar door open and tromped down the steps, tossing his pack to the side and smiling as soon as he saw MJ, ducking his head down as he came in. “Hey,” he said, and flopped down on the bench across from her, leaning over to kiss her, briefly, on the mouth. He pulled back. “Whatcha got?” He pointed to whatever was clasped in her hands. MJ was unaware of any difference in New York, having not been around much lately, but she assumed nothing like what was happening in Vegas happened over here. The news wasn’t abuzz with much, and when she spoke to some people from school earlier, they didn’t say any important. More about the parties she missed and oh, god, were she and Peter back together again? (That got a shrug of the shoulder and noncommittal ‘meh’.) Still, she was happy to just be able to spend a few hours as herself and not stuck in the back of MK’s mind. And especially happy to spend some actual time with Peter. She smiled too when he trotted down the steps and returned his kiss with ease. This was what she missed. The normalcy. She laughed as she turned the chair more towards him and looked down at the thing she was rolling in her hand for the first time. “One of your bug gears,” she said, holding it up. “You need to clean down here, mister.” She smiled at him again before placing the little piece down on the desk and turning towards him. “Isn’t it kinda weird to be back here? I haven’t been around much lately, to be honest.” Peter swept a hand out to the cluttered workshop. “This is spic and span, man, what are you talking about? I have an aesthetic. Very complex feng shui.” He reached across the gap and turned the gear she’d set down, as if it was blocking his chi. “Not weird really, no.” Peter glanced around. “It always feels like coming home no matter how long I’m gone.” He shrugged. “What’s weird is my aunt not being around, but that’s how it goes, I guess.” He missed Aunt May, more than he wanted to say, but it wasn’t going to do him any good to dwell on that. She wasn’t dead, or anything. Just, he had to assume, not in Las Vegas yet. She’d show up eventually, he was sure. As for school, he hadn’t even bothered. There was no way he’d be able to keep up with class with things going the way they were, and he should have graduated by now anyway. It was a weird feeling, missing two years of high school. “You know, I’ve been thinking - we missed school, right? We didn’t graduate. So do we have to get our GEDs?” He turned his hands up. “That’s the question, right? How do you make managing a part-time existence in your own life work? Deep stuff.” MJ could barely suppress the roll of her eyes at his explanation. Feng shui. Right. God, he was such a teenage boy, and still so very Peter. She was glad, more than anything, that fundamentally he hadn’t changed. That would have really sucked if he did. “Ooh, my fault. I forgot feng shui meant safety hazard in Japanese.” She pulled a face before a sort of apathetic sound. “I dunno. She just hasn’t let me through too much lately, so it’s weird to be home.” Flashing him a sympathetic smile, she reached forward to give his hand a quick squeeze. “I miss her, too. She’s got to come around eventually though.” Aunt May wasn’t just her boyfriend’s aunt/surrogate mother, she was a cool and caring lady and someone MJ really admired. What she hadn’t thought about, at least since all this nonsense just started, was the future. Schooling, all that other stuff. Even when she spoke to people from school, she didn’t really think about going back or anything. “Crap. We totally missed everything, didn’t we? Classes, graduation, prom.” She shrugged and moved the chair to and fro just a little. “I don’t even know, Pete. This should have come with a handbook. It isn’t really fair. Like, how does everyone else do it? Then again, I don’t think a lot of them missed -- poof -- two years out of their lives.” “You speak Japanese?” Peter asked, feigning surprise. “MJ, why didn’t you tell me? I’m taking you out for sushi so you can tell me what all the stuff on the menu means.” Peter squeezed MJ’s hand back, with a faint, warm smile. “Right, I know.” He shrugged, glancing toward the stairs that led up to the first floor. “Still, the empty house is sort of freaky.” His smile widened a little, sheepish. “Is it weird that I’m kind of glad we missed prom? I’m just...I guess I’m not much of a dance guy,” he confessed. “You may know this about me. Now I don’t have to see Flash grind on anyone again for the rest of my life, so I’m counting at least that a small win.” Peter patted the bench next to him, tugging on her hand. “Come here,” he said. “The bench is lonely.” MJ sighed, as if moving was the most tasking thing in the world, even as she ducked her head to cover a smile. “They always say to keep some mystery, or else you’ll get bored of me.” She pushed herself off the chair and made herself comfortable next to Peter on the bench. “I watched a lot of those dubbed cartoons when I was younger. Konichiwa means hello in Japanese, by the way.” She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I would pay to see you at a prom still. You’d look really handsome in a tux, Peter. But at least I didn’t have to stress over a dress and all that stuff. And people spiking the punch and puking or crying in the bathroom, if people still do that. No one should have to see Flash grind on some poor girl.” Still, she looked up at him and pulled a small face. “Don’t you kind of hate that you missed all those milestones though? I mean, we’ll never get a chance to graduate high school with all our friends.” "I could never get bored of you," Peter said, his hand sliding back behind her. His smile was a little sheepish, but hey, he just wanted to be near her. So not a crime. "Would you look at that, I learned a new thing. Awesome. And konichiwa." "No one," Peter agreed, solemnly. "It is verboten. I would look like an awkward dork in a tux if I was in a tux, but I'll take the flattery. You're a model, so I know you don't worry about this stuff because you look good in everything, but my figure is so hard to flatter." He kissed her on the cheek, mostly just for the satisfaction of being able to do so. It was so good just to be with her again. Whatever his worries were, he could set them aside, at least for a little while. It was almost like everything was back to their usual, weird version of normal. He tipped his head to the side, thinking on her question, sobering a touch. "Yeah, a little," he said. "I don't know, MJ, high school's been so weird already. I wanted to graduate and do things the normal way, but nothing's been normal. It's weird, but I think I almost expected something like this was going to happen. Because no matter how much I try to plan what's coming next, something else always jumps in front." He settled his arm around her waist. “Oh, shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes at the model comment. “They make dresses for every body, or so Seventeen told me. You’d be prom queen material. Or, at least prom jester.” MJ smiled up at him, her cheeks just a tinge of rosy after the kiss. Even after all that time, his sweet words awoke the butterflies in her stomach, frenzied the little things and made her feel all warm and fuzzy. She loved him, really, and she was really glad that they were giving it another chance. Picking up her legs, she tucked them underneath herself and shifted closer to Peter, taking his hand into hers. “Yeah, you’re right. You never really good at doing things the right way anyway, Parker,” she teased. “Though I’m preeeetty sure you never banked on any of this. Working with the big timers like Captain America and Iron Man, people from completely different worlds, being stuck in some people’s heads.” She shrugged, then grinned at him. “How was it? Working with all those guys?” Peter didn’t pull away immediately, staying close enough to her to smell her hair for a second (was that creepy? oh well, she always smelled so good, and he’d missed that) before sitting back a little. He looked down at their clasped hands. “I’d go in something with pinstripes and a clashing color scheme just to make you look better,” he said, with a smile. “Nope. I bank on nothin’.” His smile widened a little at the mention of Captain America and Iron Man, because despite everything, he did still occasionally have little-boy moments of hero worship. “They were just lucky to have me,” he scoffed, waving his free hand and laughing a little. “Come on MJ, it was basically the coolest thing. They didn’t even tell me to go play with my toys or anything, which was super cool.” He tipped his head back, and his tone remained playful, if, maybe, just a tiny bit jealous.. “Now, that Superman guy, I don’t know about him.” “Of course they didn’t,” MJ replied, beaming up at him. As trying as it was sometimes to have a superhero for a boyfriend, she had an overwhelming amount of pride in him. “Because they know how good you are, Peter. They are lucky to have you.” She squeezed his hand then before grinning wickedly at his tone. “Superman? Oh, yeah. He’s super dreamy. All tall and handsome. Did you see how he saved my life? I think I might be falling for him, y’know. Inevitable, really. Sorry, tiger, I’m moving onto bigger and better things.” Peter laughed a little, a touch embarrassed at her pride. He never could take a genuine compliment. “At the very least, they were happy to have one more target for that dragon thing to spit stuff at, and don’t doubt that for a second. I’m a very colorful bullseye when I need to be.” He nudged her when she began talking up Superman. “Hey, what’s he got that I don’t got?” he asked, feigning hurt. “I wear spandex too! And have superpowers! I may not be tall or dreamy, but I make up for it with my knowledge of Firefly and quirky sense of humor! I am a catch.” MJ laughed as well, nodding a bit. “I knew there was a reason you wore those crazy bright colors. I mean, besides the fact that they bring out your eyes, of course.” She snickered, but tried to hide her amusement for the sake of going along with the joke. “Well, he’s really tall, and he can fly, and he cuts his hair, I’m sure,” she teased, counting off each attribute on her free hand with a casual air. As if this was clearly fact and law, and Peter was just silly to not agree. All in jest, of course. “You’re okay, I guess. You’ll have to do since we don’t have one of him here.” “My eyes that no one can see behind the mask,” he said, and shook his head. “I’m starting to think it wasn’t worth it as a design choice. I guess I didn’t really think it through.” He reached up and pulled down a bang. “I cut my hair,” he insisted, and tried to remember the last time that had happened. Superheroing was a busy job. “Generally. Alright, fine. Maybe I’ll challenge him to a duel for your honor. I bet I can kick his butt, even if he did try to steal my color scheme. Laser vision, who cares! Superstrength, got that. Can’t fly, but I can swing, which is harder and cooler.” She looked up at him with a smile, and her fingers reached up to tug gently at his shirt. “I like the red and blue. It’s perfect for you.” Fingers curled a little more into the fabric more, a little possessive, but whatever. He was hers, now, again. Always. She wasn’t going to let go of him that easily this time. “Good, you should. Just to show him he can’t go around saving girls who already have superheroes of their own. You’ll be my geek in shining armor.” And at that, she beamed again, because that happened to be exactly what he was to her. That, and so much more, of course. MJ leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before sobering a little. She considered whether or not to let him know about what happened with Tate, and decided he should know. If only because hiding it would only make it worse. “Can I tell you something and you promise not to do anything crazy?” She recalled MK saying something similar to Simon not too long ago, and the parallel was not lost on her. "I like the sound of that," Peter mused. "Geek in shining armor. Sounds like a really awesome long-form fantasy novel involving saving maidens from dragons with sweet D12 rolls." The quick kiss earned her a smile, but as she went on, the smile began to fade. Uh oh. Anything that required a promise from him that he wouldn't go nuts could not possibly be good, and he sobered considerably. "Uh...okay?" he said. It wasn't much of a promise, really, but hey, he could only control his own reaction so far. "Shoot. I'm listening." MJ chewed on her cheek for a moment, still hemming and hawing over what to say or how to say it. She finally looked away from him, unable to keep his gaze for long, and lapsed into silence. How was she supposed to tell him about what happened? In the end, she sighed, but didn’t look at him again, instead focusing on the cellar wall, eyes flickering over the nicks in the concrete. “The last time MK came here? Before the Vegas stuff? Well, um, she was kind of drunk, and I wanted to come visit so I kinda pushed her over here. It was easy, really,” she said, sounding pretty guilty about it. If she hadn’t done it, Tate wouldn’t have gotten his chance. “There was a guy, and before either of us knew it, he took her and pushed her through his door. And so I ended up in a weird, quiet house with this boy. He’s our age, and he told me his name was Tate and that the girl on the Vegas side who was holding his girlfriend was killed.” She chanced a look at him, but just as quickly her eyes darted away. “It was sad, really, and I felt really, really bad. He seemed lonely and heartbroken and just lost. So, I stayed with him to talk for a minute, but then he said he wanted to show me something. I tried to leave, but...he wouldn’t let me.” Pursing her lips, she swallowed hard. MJ didn’t like thinking about that night again, not at all. It reminded her of a Goblin and a bridge, and she couldn’t control the shiver that wracked her body. “He dragged me up some stairs and knocked me out, and when I woke up he tied me to a bed.” She paused for a moment, and it could have been the end of the story if she didn’t look so keyed up still. “He kissed me and then fell asleep with his head on my chest. I couldn’t get out, I didn’t want him to hurt me again, so I had to wait until the door booted us.” She looked at him again, and this time her eyes stayed. They were glassy with tears of old pain, and she bit down hard on her lip. “It was terrible, Peter, and made me just remember what happened with Goblin, but MK doesn’t know, and I don’t want her to know.” Peter listened to the story with growing concern and horror, and he'd never had a great poker face, by the time he was done he was holding her very tightly with that arm around her waist, listening her tell him how the whole thing had reminded her of what happened with the Goblin. "It's okay," he said, quietly. No jab here, nothing witty. His main question sprang to his tongue before he could stop it. "Why didn't you tell me before?" Had she thought he couldn't take it? Had she feared retribution from this mysterious, duplicitous boy? "Well obviously you better stay away from that door from now on," he said. "But you know that." He sighed. "Honestly, MJ, I'm just grateful you weren't hurt. I know you're a good egg and you want to help everybody, but most of the people around here, you can't count on them being trustworthy, no matter how harmless they seem." He squeezed her, briefly. It was strange - he didn’t remember her seeming quite so young, or being so naive as that, but honestly, most days he felt a lot older than everybody else, no matter how he acted. MJ just didn’t have the suspicious bone he did. "...On the plus side, he's through a different door, which means he can't get in here. So long as you don't go through his again, you're safe. You see that other guy on the other side though, or if MK does, you tell me or you have her tell Simon, alright? I know you don't want her to know, but it's going to be hard to make absolutely sure you stay away from that creep if you don't at least tell her enough that she knows to keep an eye out for him." “Stuff got in the way, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” MJ assured him with a sigh. She reached the back of her hand to swipe at her stinging eyes. She hadn’t wanted to cry, hadn’t wanted to make a big old deal about it because worse things had happened to her. Worse things had definitely happened to him. But it just brought back those memories of dangling off Queensboro Bridge so freshly and clearly that it made her nauseous. A shaky breath shuddered from her chest, and she looked away from him again. Peter might think she seemed young, and she felt kind of childish lately, too. Lost and a little out of momentum, and things with MK didn’t help either. MJ briefly pulled a face at Peter’s request. “She’s got enough to worry about, Peter. I don’t know if Simon’s told you, but she hasn’t told me anything. But I still know something is up.” She felt incredibly guilty, and maybe she shouldn’t have brought it up at all. “I’ll tell her, or at least I’ll make sure you or Simon know if I see him again. Promise.” She sighed again. “I just want things to stop for a minute, stop being so crazy, and we can just have a break without demi-gods or creepy guys and just be us.” "Man, trust me, I couldn't agree with you more." Peter kissed her on the cheek again. "Hey, don't look like that, like you're feeling bad now because you said it. I want you to tell me when these things happen, okay?" It worried him, that she'd kept this from him for this long. He was going to have to work to make sure that didn't happen again. "I think there's a lot of chaos going on with them," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean she shouldn't know." He smiled a little when she promised to tell him if something else happened. "Thanks, MJ. Hey, maybe I'm just paranoid. Totally likely. Don't worry too much, okay? You might never see that guy again." She hadn’t really meant to keep it from him, not in a malicious way, but things had gotten in the way. Really. Okay, maybe she also kind of didn’t want to burden him, just a little, but she knew he was right. She should tell him everything. “You’re right,” she said, even if the thought of seeing Tate again still bothered her. “He’s in a totally different door. Hopefully he’ll stick in there.” Sighing, MJ fell quiet for a moment, looking down at their entwined fingers. She squeezed them briefly, then looked up at him with a grin. “You still owe me a date from Las Vegas, y’know.” "He better," Peter said, a little warning in his voice. Peter was hardly the killing kind. He didn't even fear crossing that line in the way Simon sometimes did - it wasn't even a possibility, for him, except as a crazy half-baked desire in his worst moments. It never had any chance of becoming reality, though. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't do everything he had to so MJ could be safe. "I totally do," he agreed, grateful for the change in subject, smile edging a little wider. "A good one. Like maybe a fancy restaurant or something. With free breadsticks." MJ knew Peter wouldn’t ever cross the line, the delicate one between fighting crime and taking a life. He wasn’t that type of guy, he never was. A bully or a fiercely violent person, and that was what MJ loved about him. Still, she worried sometimes if something could push him to the brink, but Tate was far away. She wouldn’t concern herself with him. Now, a fancy dinner date on the other hand. “Yesss,” she said with a bright smile, the idea of being able to spend actual, quality time with Peter lifting the dark little cloud that thoughts of Tate brewed. “We can dress up, and you can try to impress me with all your gentleman skills.” “I’ll open all the doors for you,” Peter assured her. “Every door I can find. And I’ll even pay for dinner instead of making you go dutch with me. But I won’t try to order for you, because I’ve always thought that was kind of weird, and I think you’d punch me if I tried.” He almost sighed physically with relief. It was reassuring to see her looking more at ease, and to put the thoughts of her attacker behind them. He’d watch out for the guy, and confront him at his first possible opportunity. For now, though, they just had to keep living their lives, the pieces of them they got, and he wasn’t going to let go a chance to be with her for anything. |