Peter Parker is Spider-Man (aleapoffaith) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-07-21 14:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, mary-jane watson, peter parker (spider-man) |
Who: Peter Parker and MJ Watson
What: An accidental run-in
When: This evening
Where: The restaurant MJ works at
Ratings/Warnings: Low/None, awkwardness
Status: Complete
As far as Peter was concerned, he deserved a reward. While he hadn’t worked at a homeless shelter since Aunt May had died, he’d decided that he probably should start getting out more, and had forced himself to go and volunteer, and, he’d found, a little to his surprise, he actually had enjoyed it.
So yes, a real, proper meal for once was exactly what he needed. He probably couldn’t afford to eat out in a real restaurant instead of getting the regular fast food and pizza he’d been surviving on, but, well, what was life if you couldn’t indulge yourself once in a while.
He stepped into the diner, and sat himself at one of the tables, and began to look at the menu for something that looked good.
MJ was thankful she even had a job. When she arrived, she found a little room to rent in a lovely Latino couple’s house, but she knew it wouldn’t last for long. The wife was expecting a baby and the two of them were planning on turning the room into a nursery in a few months. That was fine with MJ, since all she needed was a place to stay for the meantime and in all honesty, it was kind of hard living with a very happy couple who were anxiously awaiting the birth of their first child.
Too soon.
Through their connections though, they’d helped her find this diner job. It wasn’t anything amazing, and the interview was ridiculously easy (“you can work evenings and weekends?” “yes” “you start tonight”). And besides -- it was money. She had limited funds herself, so having a steady job while she beat the streets during the day for auditions was fine with her.
At least it was until he walked in.
She’d been making a new pot of coffee with her back turned when the bells chimed announcing a new customer. Peeking over her shoulder, she couldn’t help the gasp and jump, which caused coffee to spill on her hand. Hissing loudly, she ran to the back where she let her hand cool under water, trying to get her head on again. That couldn’t be Peter. Even though Marguerite had warned her that he was here, she hadn’t expected to see him, let alone in her first week. Orange County was huge... She had left New York to get AWAY from these memories, and here they were, right in front of her.
And of course it was a slow night and she was the only waitress on. Damnit all to hell.
So taking a few deep breaths, she peeked out through the food slot and stared at him. He’d gained weight, and he seemed to have stopped shaving. The grey was a bit more pronounced, and he looked just as tired as ever...and yet still endearing to her. Fuck. Her heart went out to him, while at the same time she told herself to buck up. You aren’t the first person to bump into an ex, , she told herself. You can do this. .
With a heavy sigh, she wiped her hands on her jeans, grabbed a pitcher of water and thanked whatever god there was that at least she didn’t have to wear one of those stupid waitress outfits here. T-shirt and jeans was fine by the owner. With confidence - always with confidence, MJ - she walked up to the table and flipped over the cup, aware that he was still looking at the menu.
“Let me know when you’re ready to order,” she said, as casually as she could while she filled up his water glass. She was not going to make this a thing .
For a second, Peter thought he was mistaken. Not by the words that were spoken, but by that voice. There was no way he could have forgotten MJ’s voice, and it hit him like a sledgehammer; his shoulder’s stiffened, brought almost to his ears. It was bad enough seeing MJ every time he saw a head of red hair, but to start hearing her too? Either he was hallucinating or she really was standing next to him, asking him for his order, and he couldn’t decide which was more unbelievable. And he would never know until he took his eyes off the menu and looked up.
As the seconds passed by, he almost hoped it was MJ, otherwise the poor, not MJ waitress would definitely think there was something wrong with him. But finally, he was able to pull his eyes from the menu and at the waitress’s waist. He forced his eyes upwards, right up until MJ’s face came into view.
How was it possible that she’d somehow become even more beautiful in the months since he’d seen her? To him, she’d always been the most beautiful woman in the world, so it didn’t make any sense how she’d managed to, somehow, become even more so. How did one become morer than the morest thing in the world?
“Ohboywow,” Peter said, intelligently.
MJ knew that look and it was all she could do to not say ‘Easy, Tiger’ and bring him back to reality.
Instead, she focused on what she was doing, taking the opportunity to pour what had to be the slowest glass of water ever. “Let’s not make this weird, Peter. Hi and yes, before you ask -- I’ve moved here too.” She cleared her throat and took a good look at him. Up close, it was even easier to see that the last year and a half had not been kind to him. Well. The last few years really, if she was honest, but it was catching up to him.
“I bumped into Marguerite the other day.” They both knew how chatty she could be. “She told me you’d moved too. Who would have thought we’d both leave New York?” She gave a dry chuckle. And who would have thought they’d both be in this same diner…
Yeah, Peter knew exactly how chatting Marguerite could be, especially after their run in in the grocery store. It wasn’t that Peter disliked Marguerite, but she’d always really been more of MJ’s friend than his and it was hard not to think of MJ when he saw her.
“Yeah, who’d have thought,” Peter said, barely managing to stop himself from saying something embarrassing, like it was weird how much they thought alike and it must be fate that kept throwing them together. She had told him not to make things weird, but everything he wanted to say right now would make things weird. “Weird.”
Had it always been this hard to think when MJ was around? That door was closed, and he knew it. He’d screwed up, and MJ deserved so much better than him. She deserved the world, and all he’d been able to give her was broken promises and debt. All he wanted to tell her was how much she deserved, and how he wanted to do better by her. But that door was closed. And MJ really did deserve more than he could ever be.
And how wrong for her was it that she had to serve him now, after everything he’d put her through? That she had to take his orders and bring him food and pretend that he hadn’t broken her heart. Why was it that no matter what he did, he just kept making her life more difficult? “I should go,” he said after a moment, putting the menu down.
“I think,” she said, putting a hand on her hips. “That would make things weird, and we’ve already established that’s not happening.” A small smile crossed her face, not deep enough for the dimples, but enough that it was genuine.
“Eat. The food is good here, and I’ll see if I can get you some to go. Knowing you, you’re living off of pizza right now. How you’ve escaped scurvy, I have no idea but let’s get some vitamin C in you.”
She motioned to the menu. “I can order for you. If you’d like.”
Peter shouldn’t have been so relieved that MJ told him not to leave, but, well, he was, and he smiled back at her. Not a full smile, but it reached his eyes. He should still leave, for her own good, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up from the table any more than he could make himself form some kind of intelligent thought.
“Tomato sauce has a lot of vitamin C, I’ll have you know,” Peter said, as if MJ needed a breakdown of the components of tomato sauce. But hey, at least he hadn’t said anything embarrassing.
“You always know what I like.” Like that.
Thankfully, she was fluent in Peter, and she knew what he was trying to say. This wasn’t easy for either of them but she was always the one who managed to keep a cooler head.
“I’ll get you something,” she said, before picking up the menu and walking away. Attending to a few other tables, she then put in his order and managed to find a way to stay in the kitchen. The cook kept giving her a funny look as though to ask why she wasn’t out on the floor. She couldn’t say anything though. Instead, she just kept trying to breathe and not cry.
She hated this. Hated being divorced. Hated that he looked so sad. Hated that she gave up just as much as he did. Hated that at the end of this meal, he’d pay, there’d be some more awkward small talk, and away he would go. Alone.
When the cook cleared his throat, she looked at the food and gave a terse smile. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, reminded herself that she was an actress damnit, Food in hand, she walked back to his table and set down a cheeseburger with a side salad.
“I would have brought fries, but you look like you haven’t seen a salad in days.” She really was worried about his nutrition. “Can I get you anything else?”
Peter knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching MJ while she worked, no matter how many times he turned his eyes to his phone. When she finally disappeared into the back, he tried to stop from glancing at the door, but he couldn’t, and the longer she was back there, the more he stared. Eventually, he started to get worried. Mary Jane had always been good at acting like she was better than she was, and he wondered if she really was okay back there. Was he making the right choice by staying here?
When she came back out, he quickly looked back down at his phone, and then his food was in front of him. He smiled crookedly when she put the food down in front of him. It was more like months since the last time he’d seen a salad, but she didn’t need to know that. “Aww,” he said, picking up his fork. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” It was sweet that she still cared though.
“I think I’m set. Thanks, MJ. It looks great.”
That was the nicest thing she’d ever said?
She almost protested that “I do” was probably the nicest thing, but she bit her tongue. No sense in falling into the easy bantering between them, snarky comments that had always been laced with love and affection. It was something she’d missed, something she hadn’t found with anyone else -- the ease in which they could joke and tease and say whatever without any problems.
Too bad when it came to talking about important things, they shied away from it.
“Yeah,” she finally breathed out. “I just have to ... “ She motioned to the other tables, a few which had customers and gave a delicate shrug. “If you need me .. I mean, for anything here, let me know.” Another smile before she managed to escape, except this time she had no excuse to hang out in the kitchen. She had tables to wipe down, orders to take, sugar containers to replenish, so she was in full force in the tiny diner which suddenly felt even tinier.
One eye was kept on Peter though, because how could she not? She thought back to the last time she saw him, when the paperwork was signed for their divoce. Even though they’d been living apart, even though she knew they were legally separated, part of her thought he wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t sign the papers. Heck, he hadn’t done a lot of things, and this seemed like a tremendous amount of work...and yet he showed up. On time. Barely looked at her but he signed the papers. When he left, she sat there in shock, staring at their signatures, wondering what had gone wrong with her marriage for the millionth time.
He hadn’t looked great then, and he looked worse now and all she wanted was to make him feel better but no. No. Get your mind away from that MJ. Instead, she wiped glasses and cutlery, a little more forceful than necessary, and waited until he’d finished eating.
Maybe Peter shouldn’t have joked like that. He knew that things between him and MJ were still tenuous, but he couldn’t always help himself when he was in uncomfortable situations. He couldn’t help but watch her while she worked, trying to avert his eyes whenever she turned towards him, though he was sure that he wasn’t fooling her at all.
He was pretty sure this was the slowest he’d eaten a meal in the last year, but he couldn’t make himself eat any faster than he already was. Really, there was a part of him that didn’t want to finish his meal any quicker than he already was, because it would mean that he’d have to leave and who knew when, or if, he would ever see MJ again. The OC was a big place; just because they were both living there didn’t mean that they’d be bumping into one another constantly.
But, soon enough, he did finish his meal, and he pushed his plate to the edge of the table so MJ would see it.
Would it be too weird if she was there automatically?
Should she drop what she was doing and go and get the plate? It wasn’t like she was doing much and if it was any other table, she wouldn’t be standing here second-guessing herself. She’d noticed him looking, and she wondered if he had noticed her noticing. It was a vicious circle, and she knew it wasn’t going to end up well if she kept thinking about it.
In the end, she waited a little bit, tidied up the counter before smoothing her shirt and walking over to him. Cue the same neutral smile on her face when she picked the plate up, It was empty, which wasn’t unexpected. Before, she might have made some crack about growing up to be big and strong, but would he take that as a joke about his weight gain? She didn’t know what he would find offensive or be sensitive about.
“Can I get you some dessert? The pie’s good…”
She cringed inwardly. This small talk was killing her and she had to say something.
“Okay. I can’t do this. I feel like I’m forcing conversation and I don’t want to do that with you. Are you okay? Honestly? Are you eating? Do you even see the sun? You look like shit, Peter, and I thought you looked bad before.” She frowned a little bit. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping on a bench somewhere.”
This was a very real concern for her.
Peter had been looking at the chocolate cake that was on the menu, but that had been before he realized that MJ worked here, and he thought he had decided that he wasn’t going to get dessert after all - at least not here - until she mentioned that the pie was good. He wasn’t sure how he was going to answer, and then MJ completely changed tracks.
“Again with the compliments,” Peter quipped. “You always say the nicest things.” Not the right way to answer that, Peter. He really needed to try to think before he let these things spill out of his mouth. “Sorry,” he muttered. This really wasn’t the time or place to be joking.
“Of course I’m eating, can’t you tell?” he asked, giving his stomach a bit of a pat. It wasn’t like he’d lost weight since the divorce, and while he was a little sensitive about it, it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was there. “And it’s hard to miss the sun in a place like this. They weren’t kidding when they decided to call it Sunny California.”
MJ didn’t answer. Instead, she just gave him that look that said how unimpressed she was with him. It wasn’t that MJ didn’t expect the answer she got -- it was more the fact that she kept hoping he’d change, and he hadn’t. Wouldn’t. And she needed to stop hoping.
“It’s always a joke with you, isn’t it Peter,” she said quietly. After a few moments, she reached for his plate, and brushed her bangs aside. “Maybe when you can learn how to answer a question, we can have a real conversation again. Until then, I guess this is how it’s going to be.”
“MJ,” Peter started, but he didn’t know where he was going, and so whatever else he was going to say died on his lips. He knew he’d disappointed her, but, well, what was he supposed to say? That he was miserable without her? That he saw the sun, but only because he couldn’t afford to lose his job and if he had the choice he wouldn’t leave his apartment, and that he hadn’t actually cooked a proper meal for himself in months because what was the point? That when she’d left, she’d taken all the colour out of his life? He couldn’t lay all of that on her. She definitely didn’t deserve that, and she definitely didn’t deserve him. MJ deserved to be happy, and the last thing she needed was someone like Peter dragging her down.
He wanted to ask her about why she’d moved to California, and to make sure she was settling in alright, but he had the feeling those questions wouldn’t be welcome right now. He was sure that she’d come here after getting some big movie or television role though. Maybe that’s why she’d cut back on her theatre roles since they split; he hadn’t wanted to believe the alternative theory anyway, which was that MJ was taking the divorce just as badly as he was. It didn’t explain why she was working as a waitress in some little diner, but maybe she was giving that method acting thing a try. Anyway, she was already walking away with his plate, so he’d missed his chance for small talk.
Peter pulled the money he had in his pocket out. He might not have had the bill yet, but this was more than enough to cover the meal, plus a very generous tip to hopefully make up for potentially ruining the rest of MJ’s day, and he slipped out the door while she was putting the plate in the back.
When MJ stormed off with the plate, she realized that as much as she was getting annoyed with Peter for not changing, she hadn’t changed much either. Instead of being patient, and giving him time to talk, she disappeared too, even though she heard her name on his lips as she walked away.
Taking a deep breath, and promising herself that she wouldn’t snap, she walked back out into the diner and stopped suddenly.
He was gone.
And she’d changed her number.
Trying not to rush to the door, she peeked out through the glass into the night but there was no way she could see where he went. If she was anywhere else, she might have let herself slip into sadness, but she heard a customer clear their throat, and the sounds of the diner filled her again.
Get yourself together, Mary Jane , she chided herself.
Still. She knew that for the next week or so, she’d wonder if he would come back again.