OOO
Peter picked up the dropped bowl and rinsed it off. "And when did you decide this?" He asked tersely.
"I have decided anything," Harry protested in a soft voice. "I only want to discuss the possibility…"
"Harry, I know you better than that. You never bring up something this important without having a plan in place first. Because that way it makes it harder for me to say no." He set down the bowl and looked at Harry who blushed and ducked in a guilty fashion. "You do that every time Harry, I know your tricks by now."
"Okay, there might have been a conversation or two… look, it's understandable, isn't it? MJ and Johnny have had a kid, lots of people our age do, and Penny is growing up…"
"She's barely in high school. It isn't as though she's moving out to college."
"But she will and the house would feel so… so empty. I mean, we could support another kid. Or two."
"Or two?" Peter glared. "Let's worry about one. And how, exactly, do you think we're going to have a child? Penny was essentially willed to your guardianship; adoption is usually a much tougher process."
"Well that's fine because I wasn't thinking about adoption." Harry kept his eyes on the plates he was wiping.
Peter looked at him, alarmed. "What then? Surely you're not thinking of getting Reed or somebody to… to do something."
"No! That's not what I was thinking about. Besides, I wouldn't want to ask that man for anything."
"Then what were you considering? Just say it," Peter sighed impatiently.
Harry mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"I said, we could find a surrogate."
"A surrogate?" Peter looked at him in disbelief. "Alright, legal problems aside, since it's not precisely a legitimate exchange, and moral objections aside, if you're alright with essentially using a female as a breeder or something – where do you think you're going to find a woman who will be alright with this? I don't want some stranger…" Peter paled. "Oh God, you haven't asked MJ have you?"
"No. No, I wouldn't ask MJ; that would be weird."
"But you have asked somebody," Peter said suspiciously.
"Well… maybe."
"Out with it," Peter sighed. "Stop playing this game and come clean."
"Fine." Harry threw down the dishtowel. "I ran into Liz Allen the other day. She's been a bit down on her luck and we got to talking. She's been considering donating her eggs to get money. I didn't say anything to her expressly, I only posed hypotheticals. It wouldn't be cheap but she would be willing. And we know Liz from back in the day – she doesn't want a kid, just money. Her financial responsibilities are enough as it is. So I think we could trust her."
Peter looked mortified. "Harry! What you're suggesting is basically preying upon her financial situation for your own desires and satisfaction! That's disgusting. I can't believe you would even suggest something like that."
Harry stepped away from the sink. "You're really mad about this, aren't you?" Peter only glared. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like this… but she was the one who brought the whole matter up. I'm not asking anything she wasn't already considering."
"That doesn't make it right," Peter told him coldly. "It's still using her. What is this about Harry? Are you so lonely and emotionally insecure you need to build up a family around you and anything goes, who cares about how you get it and who else is involved? Don't you think that's more than a little selfish?"
"That isn't fair Pete," Harry murmured.
"Neither is what you're suggesting, asking a woman to trade her body and nine months of her life away for money. It feels dirty." Peter filled the washer with detergent and closed it with a slam. "I've got work to do on my thesis. Alright? I could use some peace and quiet for a while."
Once Peter had left him alone in the kitchen, Harry leaned against the counter, listening to the dishwasher slosh.
"Fuck," he groaned. That conversation really had not gone as he'd imagined it.
OOO
"Pen-nnnnyyyyyyy!" Benji pouted and stomped as the girl wrestled to pull a pajama top over his head. "But I'm not even tired! Honest, not even a little, tiny bit! Can't we watch another movie?"
"Tired or not, your bedtime is at nine," she told him, tugging down the Lightning McQueen shirt. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"
"Maybe."
"Did you?"
"No," he admitted, crossing his arms.
"Better go do that."
"If I don't brush my teeth I can't go bed!" He told her with a smug smile. "So there!"
"Okay, now this is happening." She scooped up the boy and toted him into the bathroom.
"Lemme go!" He wriggled but could get free.
"Now you," she said, setting him down in front of the sink and putting her hands on his shoulders, "are going to brush those teeth for a full two minutes and then get your little butt into bed before you get any TV privileges taken away. Besides, look." She picked up a tube of toothpaste. "We even have the sparkly kind that tastes like bubblegum. Now come on." She took his brush, wet it, put on a daub of toothpaste and handed it to him. "Show me how good you can brush. And remember to spit it all out, no swallowing any toothpaste."
Benji sighed. "Can I get a story?"
"Only if you start brushing in the next five… four… three…"
He boy jammed the brush into his mouth and began scrubbing, then rinsed a couple minutes later. "All done!" He turned around. "I want my story!" He begged. "And make it a long one! I'm still not tired," he protested.
"Of course." She picked him up and carried him into the next room, dropping him on the bed, pulling up the covers and handing him Otto, the old stuffed octopus Harry had given her . "What kind of a story would you like to hear?"
"Something long… with fun parts. Maybe fighting?" He suggested. "Exciting."
"Do you want to read something we can finish tonight? Or do you mind if it stretches over the span of a few nights?"
He shrugged.
"Well, would you like James and the Giant Peach? That's a good one. Harry Potter… Where the Wild Things Are is a bit short… Oh wait! I know!" She went to the bookshelf and pulled out a large, if slender, volume. "You'll like this one," she said, sitting down with a grin. "It was one of my favorites when I was a little girl."
"What's it about?" Benji stretched to look over her shoulder at the pictures.
"It called The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales." She opened it up. "Let's begin."
OOO
"Ow, stop! Owww! OW!" Ben shrieked and crouched down covering his head. "Stop it, you're hurting me!"
"God, you're such a baby," his sister growled. "It's only practice! What do you think it's going to be like when we go on an actual mission? Do you think Daredevil is going to go easy on you, give you a chance? Think Viridian won't take the opportunity to punch you in the face, slice you up? That Spider-Man wouldn't hesitate to break every limb you've got?"
"They won't get the chance if you do it first," he grumbled, getting up.
She reached over and slapped him, sending him to the floor again. "I'm trying to help you. Quit complaining you idiot."
His face flushed from the sting of the smack and from shame, he nodded. "I'll try harder."
"Don't try harder, do better!" She snapped. "I'm not even using the symbiote! But if you don't shape up, I will!"
Nodding, Ben got to his feet and took a defensive stance. Emily rushed at him again and he moved jerkily, trying to block the numerous blows she was landing on him. His heightened senses told him he was about to be hit, but he could never get a hold on telling from what direction. And even though he was otherwise agile, he inevitably panicked and froze. Thus, despite his efforts, he was soon on the floor again, bruised, and being kicked relentlessly. He tried to pull Emily down by her legs but she yanked free and put him in a hold.
"Pathetic as always," she spat. "I'm not even trying and you're completely incompetent. First you show up late and now this."
"I'm not strong like you!" He protested.
"No excuses!" She grabbed his hair and ground his face into the floor. "You have strength; you're just too stupid to use it right! It's not even worth it, practicing with you."
Then why bother? He thought but didn't say, fearful of getting another smack.
"Get up and go work on the machines. Or something. I don't care what you do." She snorted. "If they think I'm taking you on any missions with me they have to be out of their minds. You'll be nothing but a hindrance in the field."
Still saying nothing, Ben got up and slunk away over to where there was some gym equipment set up. He did a quick routine on the pommel horse before stopping to catch his breath. He could see Emily working out nearby on the uneven bars, flipping and twisting, hand over hand. Her body flexed in lithe and graceful motions, something that might have been beautiful to watch if he didn't know what lurked beneath.
She dismounted, planting her feet firmly and turned on him in a fury.
"I told you to work!" She screamed and the symbiote emerged, forming a claw.
Ben yelped and scrambled to one of the weight machines. "I am, I am!"
"Slack again and I swear I'll tear your worthless throat out." She stalked away leaving him struggling with the weights.
Ben lifted and pressed, thinking of what Otto had promised him. He hoped the might help him out if the need ever arose. But he also had visions of his sister ripping them out of his back, for one reason or another. And he wondered if matters would be different if he were allowed to use his webs. But Fisk had told him to keep those quiet, even after their father's death.
His muscles were aching when a lab aide came into the room and told him to wash up – Fisk wanted to see him.
"Does he have something for me to do?" Ben asked nervously.
"I haven't heard the details," the man said, handing him fresh, pressed clothing, "but I believe that you and your sister are going to be sent to high school."
"High school?" Ben felt simultaneous rushes of fear and excitement. "Why?"
"That is what Mr. Fisk is going to explain to you."
OOO
"Hey." Penny gave Harry a smiled and sat down on the couch.
"Benji tucked in?"
"Yeah. I had to read him three different stories before he settled down but the little guy's dozing. You look down though. Something wrong?"
He shrugged. "Peter and I had a discussion."
"Fight?"
"Something like that." He forced a smile. "Nothing for you to worry about though. What time are you getting home tomorrow? Do you have practice for anything?" He hastily changed the subject.
Penny blushed. "Uh… well, not practice." She brushed her short hair back. "I kinda got a detention."
"Penny!" Harry's voice was inflected with disappointment. "For what?"
"Fighting."
"About what?"
She looked away. "About what it's always about." She looked back at Harry. "But for what it's worth the other kid got a detention too."
"Who was it?"
"Nobody you'd know. Some kid named Ryan."
"You can't hit somebody every time they say something about you – or us. Peter and I don't want that."
"Peter doesn't want that," Penny corrected with a knowing smile.
"I mind too," he said, though with a hint of facetiousness. "And you don't want to get suspended, do you? It might look bad when you try to get into college if you get one."
"I never really thought… I mean, I always figured I would follow after you guys some day."
"Peter's getting his degree."
"You know what I mean," she whispered. "The family business? So to speak." She fiddled with her hands.
Harry looked at her apprehensively. "This is something we can talk about later," he said finally. "You'd better get any homework you have done and I've got to work on the gallery's books."
"Are you acquiring something new?"
"We hope to." He kissed her temple. "I'll let you know if it works out."
After spending about an hour on his laptop, Harry decided he'd turn in early. The bedroom was empty, though he wasn't surprised. After he got into bed, he waited until he heard Peter enter – though it had to be over an hour later.
"You still mad?" He whispered.
Peter said nothing but slid under the covers, his back turned towards Harry.
"I'll take that as a yes," Harry murmured before turning off the lamp and leaving them both in darkness.
OOO