Of The Twilight Hours

Sequel to 'Midnight is Meant to Be'

Disclaimer: I own none of Marvel/Stan Lee's creations, only the scenario and original characters in this story.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews the first part of this story got, and I hope that you enjoy this. I always shoot from the hip, and I'm not sure how this will play out yet, but it will be a little angsty, more grown up and still PMJ at the core. Having said that, this 'series' is my fluff vehicle, so it will still get all happy. Snuggles!

8 months.

It's been 8 months to the day, almost the hour.

Shouldn't I have forgotten by now? I'm meant to have moved on… but something won't let me, something keeps bringing me back, tearing at the frozen blood in my veins and making me remember, forcing my heart to pulse with life. Hope ran from me like blood from a wound that would not close, its last drop left me long ago, all I can do now is fight, yet in vain, the constant reliving of the scene in my head, in my dreams and in my hate. Hatred of most things, especially myself. I wanted to hate her, but I can't. Everything she did I drove her to, every little false affection she gave me, the arms of the other man, whom can't help but be superior in my mind's eye, all these things I created.

Days drag like weights on my ankles, drowning me in the daylight and empty blackness of this city's perpetual flux, its grown old and I with it tired, weary of the eternal fight to exist.

All these things said, I am suffering, but he isn't. He has lost his wit and charm, gained notoriety as an almost lethal force against crime. Spiderman… he graces the city like a ghost, lingering in the dark corners of the hive, dwelling in the shadows. Criminals no longer got away with being stuck to a web; he now beat the seven ways from Sunday with a sickening amount of pleasure. He was beginning to resemble more of a demon than an angel, or more precisely a fallen angel. He would be suffering too, except he had met her. That woman whom was so brash she couldn't help but cheer him up, even though he was far from wanting to be.

Even trying to think about her didn't cheer him up now, not as the hour lingered in the minute, the minute lingering within its seconds. It was the official 8th anniversary of that date, when his eyes were opened, when he was dragged kicking and screaming into the real world. Peter Parker got no breaks, no good luck, it wasn't in his contract. Mary Jane however seemed to have climbed so high up the ladder that he didn't have the privilege of not seeing her anymore. When she was struggling for work he saw her every now and again, when she had work he missed her because she was so busy.

That night was an odd exception to the rule, she had a steady job in a crap TV show, but money is money. After he decided to disappear he didn't see her again for about 2 and a half months, until the posters started showing up. Large prints of her perfect face stared through him everywhere he went, hollowing as it were he struggled on, until the final straw.

Shortly after the posters emerged he was called into the office of one J. Jonah Jameson, his boss at the Daily Bugle. He had an unusually happy look on his face, and Peter's gloom started to thin. Maybe if that aspect of his life were so bad it would balance out by the rest picking up, such as his boss giving him less earache over nothing. He had been sent to a penthouse in an expensive property are of the city, told to photograph it and bring them straight back to be the cover of tomorrow's edition. Peter was half way through the door when he was stopped by JJ, and told he would have an opportunity if he should want it. Apparently the Bugle's new journalist Felicia Hardy had called in sick, and so somebody needed to go and interview the new penthouse's tenants in her place. Eddie Brock was out in Seattle and Ulrich was interviewing the lawyer Matt Murdock about something again. This left only Peter.

This was an opportunity that he had been waiting for, to step outside of his strictly photographic job description and actually interview somebody, it was a chance to prove himself, as well as gain more money. It took only a split second for Peter to agree and then be on his way to a more affluent aspect of NYC.

He reached the skyscraper via buses, and impatiently got the lift up to the penthouse, taking a hell of a lot longer than just climbing up the side. The key he was given at reception opened the door, and he stepped inside to glare at the sheer size on the other side. The room was huge, and that was only the first room. As he explored the abode he found two bedrooms with on-suite bathrooms, a kitchen from heaven and a questionable décor. Everything was perfect except the colours and choice of furnishings, it was all to clean and boring. Creams and Whites, surrounded by football magazines and theatre fixings. There were still quite a few cardboard boxes in the bedroom without the double bed, which he hoped would improve things. The trappings of the rich seemed to clash with his now bitter opinions, it seemed boringly masculine, lacked personality or any hint of style.

After snapping a few shots, Peter propped himself on the back of the sofa near the exit. He had spent to long in this rich man's haven in the sky, and would have left if it wasn't for the interview. Having the chance to talk to whomever owned this place at first screamed at him, but judging by his home Peter guessed that the interview would less than intellectual. It was only a minute or so before he picked up footsteps in the small corridor from the elevator, approaching the door. He heard one man's voice talking about home runs and batting ratios, oh joy.

The lock turned and slowly opened only to step in a guy whom looked vary familiar. Peter had seen him on TV at his aunt's… John Jameson, that was it. Despite Peter's annoyance at anybody called John, Peter knew this guy was a straight cut all American kinda guy, astronaut and all. It might be interesting to talk about NASA and his missions after all. John stepped through the door with his back to Peter, talking to somebody whom hadn't made a sound yet. Upon her entrance his heart sank, his stomach burned as he felt dizzily sick. Radiant red hair casually walked in and unlike her boyfriend, turned straight towards Peter. She looks so unbelievably beautiful his was messing with his mind, swallowing hard he saw the look his her face. A mix of shock and terror, more than likely mirrored in his own features. So that 'John' he had always imagined to be so much more of a man than he ever was, the perfect guy, was stood here before him, and his fears became corporeal. He was rich, handsome and famous, everything the modern woman wants, and this struck Peter as he turned to see Peter standing from his position against the back of his white leather sofa.

"You must be here to interview me and Mary Jane here about my dad buying us this new place, pleased to meet you I'm sure you already know who I am" John stuck his hand out to shake Peter's, but Peter couldn't process the action. He had to escape. Stepping to the side of MJ's boyfriend, Peter rounded him towards the door. He knew she was watching him, but he couldn't look up. Within seconds he was out of the door and descending at the painfully slow rate he came, tears of emotional distress bled from him freely.

That was about 5 or so months ago now, and he remembered walking into the office of the bugle, Jonah having just received an irate call from his son, and before Jonah could spit his anger at him Peter simply dropped the forward of his next pay check on his desk. Two simple words later and Peter was gone in record time. Those words were "I quit", and that left Peter Jobless. He had managed to find other work, but the existence of Peter Parker slowly began to fade as Spiderman was talked about more, as was his new 'pet' as one newspaper had dubbed her.

About 3 months ago Spiderman was sat motionless on top of an arms manufacturers warehouse, gazing out over the city. He was simply watching the stars on a quiet night, it was a pastime he hadn't exploited since he was about 10, but his fascination with it was now back. Peter knew that as his aching heart was slowly fading that he was becoming a ghost of his former self, a dreamer, but also lonely. After the MJ incident had taken his heart, explaining his numb and bitter outlook, Peter just felt empty, but the worst aspect was that he had nobody to talk to about it. His Ant May was kept in the black because Peter didn't want to see her upset over him, and Harry and MJ didn't talk to him anymore. Peter had no friends; he was alone in the daylight as much as Spiderman was in the night.

As his spider sense cracked through his head movement was caught out the corner of his eye, and through the skylight to his side a person could be seen inside. Skulking over Peter slowly opened the lock and dropped down silently. It was pitch black and stayed that way until Spiderman was within 12 feet of the movement. The man was obviously not meant to be here, but what he was doing was unclear. About to act, another person suddenly sprang at the man from Peter's right. His eyes opened slowly as he took in the person beating the man to the floor.

She was lithe of figure, yet with aspects prominent enough to send his pulse racing. Skintight black leather was adorned with white hair from her calves and wrists; her hair was of the same shade, long and wild. The man was lying on the ground in under a minute, and she stood over him underneath the lights whilst Peter remained in the dark, both literally and in thought. Who the hell is she? Getting a glimpse of her face he was in awe of her, and despite her drawing his gaze he still saw the man on the floor had just pulled a gun on her. Shooting out a web line he whipped the gun out of his hand, and stood to catch it.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with single action army revolvers?" He quipped as she swiftly kicked the man in the temple rendering him unconscious

"Guess not" she laughed, as she stood looking at him. He had just saved her life, and was checking her out in a rather non-blatant but obvious way, she liked this guy already. Knowing that she had just stopped this guy from setting off a nuclear holocaust in her city also gave her an adrenaline high, and she was riding it all the way to his standing.

"So you're the infamous Spiderman" she said as a single clawed finger wove a vertical path from his chest to his naval, "I'm impressed"

He felt a bit unnerved by her sudden approach, but what the hell, she wasn't trying to kill him, which made a change, "And you might be?"

"Black Cat" she purred, "See you around Spider". A few back flips and a launch of her grapple later and she was gone. Peter later found out the man had been trying to set off a nuke in the warehouse that was to be dismantled the next day. To think one disgruntled lab tech could have wiped out the whole city in one go, quite scary.

Over the next few weeks Black Cat had shown up and followed him around, they had eaten Rhino, Shocker and a few other half wits, and it wasn't long before things got, well, intimate. Peter Parker had no role in life other than earning money to live, whilst Spiderman now had a partner in both senses of the word. She was a hellcat if he let her be, and it wasn't long before a few photos of the two swinging around or hammering criminals into the floor appeared in the tabloids, but the bugle was devoid of a good shot which he found amusing to no end.

And that has been the last eight months to the day after that night with MJ, by all means I shouldn't be sad, or have this feeling that something is missing. I'm earning more money now than I used to, I'm having mind-blowing sex with a blonde straight from heaven and for once in my life I don't feel like a failure. So why do I still feel empty? Maybe it's a time thing, I mean I'm only in my early 20s; maybe I just need to let stability take hold.

Pulling his mask on Peter ran towards his open balcony window and dove out into the twilight city air, shooting out a web line he sped away from his own creeping fears of delusion.

This is the set up for the story from Peter's point of view; the next chapter is the missing 8 months from MJ's point of view. Hope you enjoyed this intro, please let me know! Please review, your feedback is always read and taken in. If any of you know who Revolver Ocelot is you will see the little mention I dropped for him! I am also going to do a spin off story about the time Peter has with Black Cat that is skipped in this story, which shouldn't be too far away!