Author's Note:
Second last chapter!
XXVIII
She looked at him in his suit. Not his Spider-Man suit, just a nice suit, the suit he'd been wearing when they'd gone to the opera in Prague. Tony'd offered to get him a new one, something slick and super expensive, but her boyfriend had turned it down. Today was about being himself.
The press probably would've flocked to be here if they'd held it on the weekend, either Saturday (the day Brad was questioned) or Sunday. MJ was sure Pepper Potts could've pulled a press conference together, especially considering they'd been preparing for something like this since Peter's identity was exposed by J. Jonah Jameson. Anyway, it was Monday, bright and early, three days before school would start, and she was possibly more nervous than he was. Pepper, five months pregnant, had corralled them into a comfortable little living space―the kind this compound seemed to have a million of, just tucked away until they were needed. But MJ couldn't relax. She couldn't sit. Peter was still in the room, mumbling to himself under his breath the words that he'd soon say to a roomful of journalists, and yet, MJ continually glanced at the large monitor on the wall. Right now, it displayed an empty podium, but soon, it was where Peter would stand to deliver his speech. She wouldn't be going in with him; just Pepper, because she was in charge; Happy, to shut it down if the questions turned hostile or there was a security issue; and Tony, to bolster Peter's credibility by standing near him and looking generally approving.
May caught MJ's hand as she paced past the couch again. She gave it a pat, smiling comfortingly up at her. MJ tried to smile back. She wished she were walking out there with Peter, but they were still trying to play it safe. Being together didn't have to involve being together in front of a couple dozen cameras. Putting her up there at his side would just generate questions, detracting from Peter's statement and probably triggering a media investigation into all things Michelle Jones. Ugh. Pass. She understood the logic. She could do this, just sit in here and watch her boyfriend claim his alter ego on the screen. There were people to keep her company: May, Ned, Romanoff, Cindy and Shuri holding hands. The only reason MJ hadn't cornered her best friend to comment on how obviously well things were going (considering she'd just given Shuri Cindy's number two days ago) was because she was too full of nerves about this press conference. She was rattled and she didn't like it. She wished she had Mace-y Gray to grip, like a stress ball you could also use to poke holes in people.
"Sit with me," May requested, patting MJ's hand once more. MJ gave up and dropped onto the couch next to Peter's aunt. "This is a good team here. They'll get him through it."
MJ nodded. May had to be at least as nervous as she was―her nephew's identity, his integrity, hell, his whole life was on the line here―but she looked calm as she swished her hair back over her shoulder. Maybe it was just that being in love suited her. Her grip tightened, though, when Pepper gave them all a reassuring nod and left the room. MJ noticed Peter stumble in the script he was repeating to himself as he watched Pepper go. With a wink to May, Happy followed. Collectively, those of them remaining in the room turned their heads to the screen to see Pepper step behind the podium.
As she presented the address that would precede Peter's appearance, MJ's foot bounced frantically. In a steady, practiced voice and just one reminder to a reporter who tried to interrupt with a question that those would have to wait to the end, Pepper laid out the evidence she and everyone who comprised 'Peter's team' had gathered since his unmasking in July. Oh, the media (and the world) would get to see Spider-Man, but not until she'd swayed any doubters over to believing in his innocence. Some of the information was data MJ was familiar with, like the disrupted drone patterns Happy had explained at Peter's birthday party. But so much of it was new. MJ's comprehension was fine and she was picking up all the points Pepper had clearly simplified for dissemination to the gathered members of the press, but there was a whole other layer to the case she was outlining; it involved Pepper getting into some deeply specific technical shit, even calling Dr. Bruce Banner (no wonder MJ hadn't seen him earlier) over to take her place as an expert. This made sense. Pepper provided the buzzwords, the catchphrases, everything the journalists could latch onto for headlines and pull-quotes, then went through and bolstered the hell out of everything to authenticate it. It was all simple enough that her audience could nod along as their cameras picked it up and they jotted additional notes, but also complex enough to prove this wasn't some Tony Stark flash-and-bang, all showmanship and no substance. Pepper offered two versions of the same truth and MJ was kinda inspired. What was this woman's job title anyway? Could MJ just, like, grow up to be a Pepper Potts? Pepper was polished and professional, cheeky and charming, always on time and totally, totally, totally in control. Plus, MJ knew she kicked noncorporate ass on the side.
Anyway, a lot of the super technical stuff went over her head and suddenly Tony was steering Peter to the door. It was nearly his cue. MJ jumped up. She hurried to him and couldn't think of anything to say, so she just flung her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Over his shoulder, she viewed Pepper onscreen, displaying a final piece of evidence in Peter's favour: accelerated video footage showing the two men who had attacked MJ climbing through the window of the Parkers' apartment, then Peter coming to the rescue. Obviously, Romanoff had been watching over his place as well as hers. Peter looked like absolute hell with his tattered clothes and bloodied hands and MJ clutched him to her even tighter. It'd been such a short time ago, but she'd forgotten how injured he'd been when he arrived to save her. (She hadn't needed it. Still counted in his favour.) Peter squeezed her in return, then rubbed between her shoulder blades. Embarrassed, MJ stepped back from him and smiled self-consciously.
"At least he's finally dressed appropriately," Romanoff remarked. It made MJ laugh, remembering Peter's tales of the Black Widow intercepting him and insisting on a wardrobe change.
"We gotta go put your guy on the cover of every major newspaper," Tony told her, clasping Peter's shoulder to lead him from the room. It was a pretty fucking blasé comment, until he gave MJ a look that just spoke to her somehow. He was telling her that this was him setting things right. The sincerity of it made her wonder if Stark felt guilty about not being there in Europe.
"As if anyone still listens to the news," MJ joked dryly. Tony gave her a sly grin and twisted to lock eyes with his protégé.
"Hope you've been practicing your smile for the cameras, kid."
Peter laughed awkwardly and they went out, closing the door after them. MJ exhaled loudly, returning to her seat. All she had left to do between now and when it was over was observe. Her old habit.
One of the reporters in there had to be here representing the Bugle. All MJ knew was that it wasn't Jameson; Stark had forbidden him entrance. He'd even said something about having Jameson shot on sight if he did try to come, which MJ thought was probably a joke.
God, Peter looked nervous as he stepped up to the podium and flashed the assemblage that under-practiced smile. The microphone picked up his soft murmur to himself: "Come on, Spider-Man." But MJ sat there, in that cushy little room full of stress and sweat and support and love and thought the same thing, thought it really hard: Come on, Spider-Man. Between her attempts at telepathically encouraging her boyfriend and the way he relaxed the longer he spoke, she watched him get through it. May's hand became very tight around MJ's fingers when Peter quoted his Uncle Ben at the end, about power and responsibility, and wrapped it up with, "…and I'm gonna keep balancing those things every day when I come back. That's what I'm gonna try my best to do."
He turned to glance at Tony, who nodded firmly. That was it then, he'd done it. MJ let herself tip back against the couch instead of keeping her elbows perched on her knees. Peter was stepping back, apparently about to cede the mic to Pepper as she opened the floor for questions, when he suddenly darted forward again.
"Oh yeah," he added. "I am Spider-Man."
MJ watched Tony snort a laugh and drag Peter backwards by the shoulders to get the loser away from the podium.
May hugged him first, after. She told him she was proud and that Ben would've been proud and that he looked handsome in his suit. Basically, she mothered him until he was blushing fiercely, then Ned got in there and pulled his best friend into an enormous hug, only breaking away so the two nerds could do their special handshake. Finally, it was Peter and MJ. They reached for each other's hands at the same time.
"How was it?" he asked her.
"Not bad. I think you picked up some writing tips in that English class. How was it for you up there?"
"Well, I webbed one guy's mic to his chest and he couldn't get it unstuck, so that was kind of embarrassing." Peter scratched at the back of his head, looking sheepish. But MJ laughed.
"I heard that guy ask why he was supposed to believe you were Spider-Man, I saw you put your arm out and fire off a web, then you had that look on your face. I figured something happened. He was being a dick. I think he got the answer he deserved."
"Yeah… Hey, you know what? I learned something."
"What?"
"There was never even a warrant out for my arrest. The police didn't believe I killed Beck."
"You can't be serious."
"I guess they were mildly suspicious of Spider-Man, but they didn't actually have evidence that he's me until this press conference. There was enough stacked against Beck after the attack in London that his word didn't mean that much and that's all the authority he really had to accuse me."
"But are you going to have to talk to the cops or something now that, you know, they know you're you?"
"There were a couple in there," Peter informed her. "Pepper's handing off copies of all the evidence now, then I'm supposed to sit down with them once the reporters clear out."
"That's a pain in the ass," MJ said.
"Yeah, I know, but Mr. Stark's leaning on them to review everything right away so they can publicly clear me today too. Just so everybody's telling the same story."
"Will he be in the room with you when you talk to him?"
"Yep," he confirmed. "Tony, Pepper, May… I think Ms. Romanoff wants in too."
"Definitely get Romanoff," she encouraged with a grin.
Peter nodded and they talked for a few more minutes until his super-handlers came to get him again so he could speak to the police and officially close the case of Quentin Beck's nonmurder death. When he left, MJ realized she hadn't seen Cindy in a bit. She didn't think her friend had left the room where they'd watched the conference unfold, so MJ went back and pushed the door open. Cindy and Shuri were making out on the couch; Cindy's hands were on Shuri's waist and the princess's were invisible beneath the shiny black strands of Cindy's hair, tousling her formerly immaculate ponytail. MJ yelped and snapped the door shut.
"Don't go in there," she barked at Ned, who was wandering over to her with an easy grin, about to speak.
With a freaked-out expression, he began backing away from her instead.
"Ok, uh, I'm gonna go talk to Dr. Banner."
MJ nodded briskly and Ned walked away. She nearly jumped when the door opened behind her a minute later. Cindy stepped out, red-faced and just tugging her ponytail back into place. Shuri emerged a second after that wearing a bashful smile. MJ glanced pointedly away as the princess touched her hand to Cindy's lower back and spoke to her softly for a moment.
"MJ," she said, finally grinning like her normal self when MJ looked over. MJ raised amused eyebrows.
"Shuri."
The princess headed off, presumably to find Okoye or her brother. What could she have told Okoye to wrangle that private time with Cindy? MJ had no idea.
"Soooo," Cindy said, rocking up on her toes. MJ shook her head at her friend and snorted a laugh.
"You're bright pink."
"August heatwave," she explained. Her face grew redder than ever at being called out.
"Cindy, it's the thirty-first."
"Better late than never?"
"Fine," MJ allowed, "you can have this one. You have anything else to say about… that?"
"Oh that's nothing," Cindy said with a dismissive flap of her hand. Abruptly, the giddy look on her face sank into disappointment. "She's going home today. Back to Wakanda."
MJ frowned in sympathy.
"I heard."
"I'll be ok," Cindy said with a shrug.
"Seems like you guys are just getting started though. Unless there were clandestine meetings that I never heard about?"
Her best friend laughed.
"No."
"Yeah, I didn't think so. I would've figured it out," MJ told her, narrowing her eyes to emphasize her canniness and observational skills.
"I don't know," Cindy shot back playfully. She stuck her hands into the pockets of her shorts and looked smug. "You thought it was unrealistic of me to set my sights on an actress and HA! I got a princess instead."
"I did not see that coming, but I will reluctantly admit that you deserve it. You guys are kind of adorable."
"We're completely adorable," Cindy corrected, hooking her arm around MJ's neck before MJ wriggled free and swatted her ponytail. "I found my princess, even if it ends up just being a summer fling, and you're back with your superhero. This is the world we're living in, M. Can you believe it?"
MJ thought for a minute, then smiled.
"Some days, I almost can."
The Wakandans had packed up and headed out, though MJ only heard about it from Peter. She was back in the city by then, deposited by a car that let a dreamy-faced Cindy out at her apartment and an eager-looking Ned out at Betty's place. MJ didn't know how he planned to spend the rest of his day and it wasn't because Ned hadn't offered to tell her―she'd just shut that down immediately. She didn't need details.
Her mom was around and they sat together on the couch, eating leftover takeout (that June didn't even trust her far enough to reheat―like, come on) and watching Peter's press conference. June had watched it when it aired that morning, but neither of them wanted to change the channel. This was history. It was also MJ's 'sweet, nerdy boyfriend' (her mom's words) on TV. Either way, it was worth viewing more than once. Plus, this footage came from a news team who'd been positioned far enough back in the room that MJ got to see the effects of Peter loosing a web on that one sceptic reporter. They laughed at the TV and heckled the man for being a dumbass.
"Peter's a good kid," her mom said when it was over, podium empty and journalists dispersing on the feed.
MJ shrugged.
"He's alright."
"No, you're alright. He's a hero."
She knew her mom was pestering her on purpose, but she couldn't stop herself from responding.
"You know I took down two adult men, right? You remember that?"
"Honey, that's just all in a day's work for you," June said, cuddling her so close that MJ knew she was still plenty distressed about the attack beneath her flippant response. She kissed her daughter's head.
"One girl's work is another Spidey's hobby," MJ summarized with a sigh.
"He can call being Spider-Man whatever he likes. He saved my butt. I'll be happy knowing he's back on the beat."
"Aw, are you a fan?"
Her mom stared her right in the eye as she lifted her laptop from the coffee table and displayed the pro-Spider-Man stickers plastered to its cover. Absolutely shameless.
"You're embarrassing. If Peter ever saw that…" MJ groaned.
"Is he coming over?"
"He's picking me up tomorrow. Downstairs," she emphasized.
"Good. I don't like you going anyplace alone. Not until they figure out who those men were."
"I know. Peter's walking me to his place and then he said he'd walk me home again after we unpack."
"Ok," June said. "And remind May that she can give me a call if she needs another hand."
"I will, but I think we'll be fine. Her boyfriend will be there too."
"Tell her all the same, please," her mom said in a tone that left no room for argument.
"Fine."
"Now, you wanna watch Peter stick that man's microphone to his shirt again?"
MJ grinned.
"Yes, please."
"She's thinking about moving," Peter told her as he walked back into his room.
He'd just removed a box of kitchen stuff that he'd hauled to his bedroom by mistake. Just plain weird the stuff May had decided to pack during their scramble to get out of Queens.
"Seriously?" MJ asked, channeling her sudden distress into carefully lining up her boyfriend's new books at one end of his desk. She gave Macbeth's spine a light push to shift it into position, then slid his lamp into place to keep the books from toppling over. The nerd needed bookends. "But you guys just got back. We're still unpacking."
"Not now," he promised. "Once I'm in college, May said."
"So, she's thinking about moving in with Happy?"
"Yeah. It's..."
Peter trailed off. He shrugged and started putting his clothes away. Apparently tired of his own slow pace, he upended his suitcase on the bed, making MJ groan. Did he remember how long they'd spent folding? As he hung button-up shirts in his closet, she checked to make sure all the pockets of his suitcase were empty, then zipped it shut and shoved it under his bed. She trapped her hands beneath her thighs and kicked her legs, letting her feet swing.
"Are you scared?" MJ asked.
"Of not living here anymore or of May and Happy shacking up together?"
She laughed.
"Either one."
"I'm not really any more attached to this place than anywhere else we've lived," Peter said thoughtfully. He looked around his bedroom. "Even the compound started to feel like home. I guess it'll just be funny not living with May anymore."
"But you'll probably be living in residence, right? You'll have lots of new roommates." MJ flicked an uncertain glance at him, then studied the tangled heap of action figures on his chair, waiting to be separated and displayed. "Maybe we'll live together, if we end up at the same school."
"Yeah, I know," he said easily.
She lifted her gaze and stared at him. You know? she thought. The idea of living with her boyfriend kinda freaked her out, but he didn't sound worried at all. He sounded like he'd thought it through already and accepted it as a solid plan, a natural next step. God, MJ was glad she had the better part of a year to figure that shit out.
"It'll be good that she's not by herself," Peter added.
"Mhmm."
"I mean, it's Happy. I trust Happy."
"So far you do."
"What does that mean?" he asked, spinning around to face her while he tried to work one of his t-shirts onto a hanger.
Damn it, MJ hadn't meant to put him on edge. She liked Happy too! But it wasn't her aunt he was banging. She could see how she might share Peter's anxiety about that living situation in his position.
"Nothing. Things change. You're right, I'm sure you'll feel better knowing May has somebody when you move out."
He sighed and hung his t-shirt.
"Yeah."
"You're not alone," she blurted. Peter turned back to her, eyebrows lifting just before he gave her a gentle smile. "You know that, right?"
"Oh yeah?"
He walked over to her and tilted his head down, neither of them completely closing their eyes as their noses, then their lips, brushed. MJ's hand was just fisting his t-shirt, Peter's just landing on her thigh, when May's footsteps came quick towards his bedroom door and they jumped apart. She didn't come in, turning into her own bedroom instead, but MJ still shot her boyfriend a nervous look. Her pulse was racing.
"Back to sneaking around," he joked.
"As if you ever stopped."
"I forgot how hard it is to be alone with you in this apartment."
MJ laughed.
"I thought you were sad about the idea of not living under May's roof."
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't miss the constant fear of being caught."
He ruffled his hair. May was still right across the hall; MJ could hear her shuffling boxes around while Happy unpacked (and possibly broke, by the sound of it) stuff in the kitchen. She leaned back on Peter's bed.
"Oh god, M, don't," Peter groaned, gaze roving down her body.
She rolled her eyes and caught hold of his Spider-Man suit―the thing she'd been reaching out to grab. She sat up, shaking her head at her boyfriend's one-track mind.
"I was just wondering what you were going to do with this. You don't have to hide it anymore."
MJ watched Peter's eyes dart to his closet, his laundry hamper, the ceiling, all the places he'd tucked the suit away in the past when no one knew about his alter ego, even as more and more of the people close to him began to find out. Now, everyone was in on the secret. She thought he might as well keep the suit someplace it'd be easier to retrieve. As he frowned in thought, MJ draped the suit over her lap and held the neck with her chin. She laid the sleeves on top of her arms, and trapped the end of one between her fist and her cheek, posing like she too was contemplating the problem of where to keep it.
"There's an idea," Peter said with a grin.
"What?"
"You wear it and when I need it I'll just take it off you."
"You're an idiot," she told him, then bit her lip as he bent over her again, stroking her cheek when she let the suit fall onto her lap. MJ tilted her chin up...
"HAPPY, DID YOU SEE A BOX MARKED 'BATHROOM'?" May shouted.
They hastily separated again as Peter's aunt marched back towards the kitchen.
"They'll have date nights," MJ said. "They won't be here all the time. Just be patient."
Peter hung his head in frustration.
"PETE?" May called from the kitchen.
He heaved a sigh and went to his doorway, gripping the frame as he leaned out.
"YEP?"
MJ heard his aunt come a little closer.
"We'll have to do a bigger grocery shop soon, but I sent Happy out for sandwich stuff. Does that sound good?"
"Sure, May."
Her footsteps retreated and Peter turned around.
"So," he asked MJ, "do you want a sand―"
She set the suit aside, pushing herself off his bed and nearly tackling him in her determination to finally make their lips meet.
"What happened to patient?" Peter asked when they broke the kiss to breathe.
"Why are you wasting time talking?" MJ demanded, smirking. "I bet we can get to second base before the next interruption. Unless you'd rather go to the kitchen and wait for your sand―"
This time, he cut her off. She decided moving days that brought people home were way better than the kind that took them away.
To be continued...