Hey guys. Guess who's back? Back again? Me. My username isn't cool enough to continue the Eminem song, sorry. Well I hope life has been good for all of you. Mine has been hectic. I lost a lot of motivation for this story awhile ago and figured I'd come back to it when it came back and I had the time. Now, I barely have the time. But I figured I've been sitting on this chapter for awhile, so I've come back to revive this old tale. Hope you guys enjoy!

Like usual, nothing's changed in the past few years. So here's the statement where I tell you I don't own Marvel or any of their characters. :P

Chapter 7

Peter met MJ at a small diner that happened to be a halfway spot between both their places. It was an older diner – the kind that served home cooked meals and had great customer service, granted to you by a lovely middle-aged woman that reminded people of their own mothers. Peter took a deep breath before entering the small establishment, slightly taken aback at how timeless the place seemed on the inside. The floor was checkered with black and white tiles and the walls were a pastel yellow. The walls were lined with dark red booths and mahogany tables, most of which were empty as it was nearing late evening. However, MJ was there, sitting alone in a booth and staring boredly at the menu in front of her. Peter exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding at seeing her. He didn't know why he was so nervous she wouldn't be there, but… there she was. He stood for another moment and MJ glanced up after a few seconds when the door behind him closed. They made awkward eye contact for a few seconds, before Peter came to his senses and crossed the tiny restaurant to join her.

"Hey," He said after clearing his throat and slipping into the seat opposite of her.

"Hi," MJ replied, watching him. A few more seconds passed of awkward eye contact before Peter spoke.

"Um," He shifted in his seat, glancing around at the miscellaneous items on the table in a weak attempt to relieve some of the tension between them. This was the first time they've ever hung out one on one, and it felt weird. "Are you okay?"

"No small talk?" MJ asked, raising an eyebrow. Peter blinked, somewhat confused and MJ continued.

"No, how was your day? No, the weathers nice today?"

"Well, the weathers been pretty crap today," Peter blurted out, making MJ laugh slightly. He gave her a half smile, before taking a more serious stance. "No… You said you were having a rough day. I didn't think you'd want small talk."

MJ sighed softly, finally breaking the eye contact that was making it so hard for Peter to breathe. "I… have been having a rough day," She admitted, leaning back against the backrest of the booth.

"Do… you want to talk about it?" Peter asked, watching as MJ pulled the dessert menu out from its spot on the table towards her. She started to twirl it in circles absentmindedly.

"Maybe we can talk about it after we get our milkshakes?"

Peter nodded a bit too eagerly. "Yeah, Yeah! Sure. We... We can do that... Uh can I?" He gestured to the menu in her hands. She nodded and slid it across the table for him.

After ordering their food, the conversation between them stayed dead. The silence was crushing honestly… almost as crushing as a building crumbling on top of—

Nope. Peter cut off his train of thought instantly and blew out a long sigh, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the table. "This place really doesn't fit in with the busyness of New York… don't you think?" He blurted out, looking up at MJ again.

"Yeah, I agree." MJ said, seeming to relax a bit as she rolled her shoulders back. "It's like time slows when you walk in here," She added sheepishly.

"I was thinking the exact same thing!" Peter exclaimed softly. "It just brings you back to simpler times…"

"I get fifties vibes," MJ stated, smiling a little now.

"Checkered floors and pastel colours," Peter noted, glancing around the diner a bit distastefully. "I don't really agree with the booth colors, but weirdly enough—"

"It works," They both said in unison and Peter couldn't help but huff out a weak laugh. Soon the tension between them faded and they were just friends meeting up after school. The conversation became light and effortless, with stupid jokes and genuine laughter. Before they knew it, their food was brought to them.

"A chocolate milkshake for the cutie with the curls," The waitress spoke cheerfully as she distributed the meals, "And a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake for the gent in the graphic tee."

She winked at Peter, making him force a smile and a laugh. "If you need anything else kiddos, you just holler! I'll come running! Toodles!"

After the waitress left, MJ couldn't help but burst out laughing so hard she snorted.

"What?" Peter asked, laughing himself.

"You literally turned red as a firetruck when she winked at you!"

"What? No, I didn't!"

"God, Peter. You suck at hiding things," MJ laughed, stealing one of his fries.

Peter felt his stomach sink but forced a weak chuckle in an attempt for MJ not to realize his shift in his demeanour. "I mean, in my defense, she was coming onto me pretty hard," Peter tried weakly. As he spoke, he pushed his plate into the center of the table in a nonverbal gesture to offer more of his fries to MJ. She laughed, gladly helping herself to another heaping of fries and nodding in approval.

"So… You didn't invite me here to watch me get flustered by older woman, did you?" Peter asked, picking at his fries.

MJ smirked, "What would you do if I said yes?"

Peter huffed out a laugh, picking up his burger. "Never help you with physics again," He responded before taking a bite.

"Come on! That's not fair!" MJ howled in laughter. "You guys would be a good fit!"

Peter gave her a weird look, shaking his head. "She's a little out of my age range, don't you think?"

"Nope!" MJ exclaimed, popping the P.

Peter just shook his head, smiling slightly. "I think May would have a stroke if I brought her home."

Peter couldn't hide his smile growing when he heard MJ laugh at his comment. She had such a nice laugh…

"But seriously… why did you want me to come here?" Peter prompted, trying not to let his heart sink when MJ's playful mood fade from her face.

"No… But… it's just so stupid… I shouldn't even be upset." MJ started, taking another of Peter's fries and dipping it into her milkshake.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Peter interrupted.

MJ stared, "What?"

"Fries… in your milkshake?" Peter gave her a disgusted look.

"Seriously? That was so important to mention?"

"First plain Tostitos and sour cream, now this? You really need to get your taste buds checked MJ."

"Peter. First: You're wrong, and you need to GET taste buds, because this is an amazing combination. Second, can I get back to my story?"

Peter nodded, falling quiet as he continued to eat.

"So… I don't like telling people anything about me…" MJ started, stirring her milkshake with her straw and staring intently at it while she did. "But… I kind of think we're on that level now… right?" She glanced at Peter. "Like… we're friends. Well I mean… I consider us friends."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, we're friends. You can tell me."

MJ nodded in agreement, sighing. "I… um, I take dance lessons."

"You? Michelle Jones? You take dance lessons?" Peter asked, having a hard time hiding his surprise. MJ recoiled fast, like a snake being poked by a stick.

"Why is that so surprising?!" She snapped.

"Because you're MJ! No one knows anything about you and uh… dance lessons doesn't really seem to be… a part… of your aesthetic…" Peter tried to explain, choosing his words carefully as MJ's eyes narrowed into a poisonous glare. If looks could kill…

"Anyway," MJ continued, ignoring his comment and staring at her milkshake a tad bitterly, "My friend and I had signed up for this dance competition… and we've been preparing for months. And… on Monday they told me that they couldn't do it because his cousins dance group lost a member and they wanted him to take their place…." As MJ spoke, her voice got quiet.

"Wow…" Peter said quietly, and MJ looked away.

"Whatever science dork, I didn't ask you to come here and judge me."

"MJ, I'm not judging you. That sounds… really crappy. It's crappy that they did that to you." Peter empathized.

"I mean… I don't care. I mean… like I get it. It's just… he knew I was excited about this. And we worked so damn hard… and for him to just turn around and drop me last minute for a better opportunity. Like what am I? Chopped liver?" MJ shook her head, pushing her milkshake back and crossing her arms.

"You certainly are not. You're like… chocolate chip cookies, or pizza! Something everyone loves!" Peter exclaimed, trying hard not to blush at the look MJ was giving him.

"Your dance partner is a jerk. You deserve better…"

"Damn right I do," MJ agreed, nodding confidently. "Sadly, the competition is next Friday… and it's too late to find another partner… so, maybe next time."

"I could be your dance partner!" Peter blurted out, taken aback when MJ erupted in laughter.

"Peter," she managed as she tried to catch her breath, "That's sweet, but you're not going to learn an elaborate routine in a week,"

"I catch on fast?" Peter tried meekly, giving a small shrug.

"You're a great friend, Peter. But lets be honest, you're not that steady on your feet. You didn't even attend homecoming because you were too scared to dance with Liz! So, let's just stick to what we're good at, hey?"

"Wait, what? I didn't attend homecoming because I was afraid to dance with Liz?" Peter blinked at her.

"Yeah… That's what's going around…" MJ said.

Peter open and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something to say. All those evenings spent dancing with May, trying to perfect his skills for his first real date with a girl, only for everyone to think he was that much of a pussy. He was saved from trying to explain his stunned silence as the waitress came over with the bills.

"Separate or together?" She asked in that annoyingly chipper voice.

"Separate" "Together" Peter and MJ spoke at the same time. MJ stared at Peter.

"I can pay," MJ started.

"I got it. It's just a milkshake anyway," Peter said, taking out his own wallet.

"I can pay for my own damn milkshake," MJ muttered somewhat angrily.

"Stark Internship," Peter flashed her a cocky smile before getting up and heading over to pay. Once everything was taken care of, they headed outside (MJ mumbling something about the Stark Internship being a pain in her ass). The sky had darkened tremendously since Peter had entered the diner and the air was cool. He glanced over at MJ.

"Did this help at all?" Peter asked, suddenly feeling a lot like Dr. Fitzpatrick from earlier that day.

"Yeah… Yeah. It was nice, talking… being listened to."

"My pleasure," Peter said, doing a mock bow and making MJ laugh once again.

"I guess this is where we part ways…" Peter said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yeah... um, Peter…" MJ said, a bit quickly. "Um… if it's not too much… could you walk me home? It's dark… and you know… string of break ins…" She chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, Yeah. Of course, I can walk you home." Peter agreed easily. He was used to these streets at night, especially now. Plus, he'd feel better knowing MJ got home okay.

While walking they made small talk. They talked about their classes, and the physics test that day. As they chatted, Peter admired the city. He wasn't often in this part of Queens, and even less since he put the suit up for awhile. His attention shifted when he heard MJ speak up.

"Hey Peter… Thanks for everything," She said softly, her voice genuine. "Coming to the diner, walking me home. I'm… really glad we're friends."

"Yeah, I am too." Peter smiled at her, noticing she was shivering. Without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Uh, what are you doing?" MJ asked, staring at him slightly alarmed.

"It's freezing out… and you're cold." Peter stated obviously, shrugging.

"But you're just wearing a t-shirt." MJ started to protest.

"I'll be fine," Peter shrugged it off, giving her a sheepish smile.

MJ hesitated, but slowly pulled the jacket on, mumbling a small thanks. Peter nodded, looking at MJ in his jacket. It fit her well, almost perfectly. And she looked great in it too. He quickly looked away.

"You know… Peter…" MJ started, not looking at him as she spoke. "You're a great guy."

"I wouldn't say great…" Peter laughed weakly, giving her a small shrug when she looked at him. Her gaze was serious, and it made Peter nervous.

Peter shifted a little, clearing his throat and looking away. "So, why does everyone think I suck at dancing?"

"Are you saying you don't?" MJ retorted, letting the conversation topic change with no protest.

"I'm saying no one really gave me a chance to prove myself…"

MJ continued to stare at Peter, as if he was a riddle she was trying to solve. "Do you want to be my dance partner that badly?"

"Nah, I just don't like people spreading rumours about me," Peter joked.

"Well… There's always worse rumours…" MJ sighed softly, shaking her head at Peter's goofy grin.

"Come on then. If you're not a bad dancer, show me some dance moves." MJ demanded, stopping in the middle of the street.

"Seriously? Here? Now?" Peter asked, starting to slow to a halt.

"Well come on. If you're going to make a statement you must be able to back it up, Parker," She said coolly, putting her hands on her hips.

"MJ," Peter started to protest.

"Come on!" She exclaimed, laughing at the look on his face.

"My… what did I walk into?" Peter groaned, laughing with MJ. "Seriously?"

MJ nodded; a shit-eating smirk plastered on her face. Peter sighed, shaking his head. Peter then attempted some lame dance moves, more to make MJ laugh than to debunk his reputation of being a bad dancer. It worked, and soon MJ was laughing at his expense.

"What are you even doing?"

"Dancing! Come on, MJ, I didn't say I was perfect!" Peter cried in mock defense.

MJ shakes his head, "You look like a fool."

"Then I'm doing something right," Peter said, smiling widely. He reached his hand out, stopping. "Would you care to join me Miss Michelle Jones?"

MJ stood, staring at him. She seemed a bit surprised that he asked and confused, making Peter regret all his life choices up to that moment.

"I uh… Never mind," Peter quickly straightened up and took his hand back. MJ bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"So… How much farther away is your place?" Peter asked, hoping the awkwardness of the situation would disappear as quickly as it appeared.

"It's just up this road," She said, pointing to a path that lead off in a different direction from the main road. MJ took the lead, walking a bit faster than normal now. Peter followed close behind, wishing a blackhole would open in the ground and take him away from this entire situation. Of course, he would ruin everything in the span of five minutes. When Peter finally hauled himself out of his own thoughts, he realized how dark it was on this street. Few of the streetlights were on, illuminating the road in a way that was almost eerie. Something about it was putting Peter on edge.

"Hey, are you okay?" MJ asked suddenly, catching Peter by surprise. "You seem… a little tense."

"No, I'm fine." Peter said, glancing around. "Your street is just a little sketchy."

"New York is a little sketchy," MJ joked, frowning slightly when Peter didn't react. "Don't worry, I'll protect ya," She teased, bumping into him playfully. Peter managed a small chuckle, feeling relief come over him. She must've not been that put off by him asking her to dance, right?

"I feel so safe," He joked back, and MJ gave him a small smile.

"We're… good, right?" MJ asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"We're cool? Like… me not dancing with you didn't like… hurt your feelings?" MJ asked, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. If Peter looked closely, he could have sworn she was blushing.

"God no, we're fine!" Peter said quickly, wanting to escape the awkwardness.

"Okay. Okay! Great." MJ said, nodding curtly.

Peter shook his head, "Let's get you home," Peter said, gesturing forward. MJ nodded and they continued up the street. Peter let MJ lead the way, but quickened his pace starting to become acutely aware to all his surroundings. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up, glancing around the street. Why was he getting worked up? Why was his spider sense kicking in? He didn't realize MJ stopped until he walked into her.

"Oh! Oh, sorry, MJ…" Peter said, stumbling slightly.

"Jeez, Peter… Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." MJ looked over him with concern, almost moving to put her hand on his arm before Peter steadied himself.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine." Peter said, somewhat distractedly. "Are… Are we at your place?" Peter asked, eyes shifting their focus to MJ. He only felt like this when danger was lurking, and it suddenly became aware to him that he needed to get MJ out of here if that was the case.

"Yeah… This is where I live day to day." MJ answered, eyes trailing over Peter's face curiously. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to come in? I can grab you some water…"

"No, No. I'm fine… but thank you. I should get going… May will be worried." Peter explained, taking a small step back.

"Peter." MJ said his name in such a way that it made Peter stop in his tracks. "What's going on? You're acting… weird."

"I'm not acting weird… I just… didn't realize how late it was." Peter said simply, shifting from foot to foot. Peter had never feared the dark before… but something was really setting him off.

"It's not because I said no to you being my dance partner?" MJ asked, biting her lip.

"What? No. Not in the slightest… I just... really have to get going."

"Oh… Okay. Uh… thanks for walking me home." MJ said, rooting around for her keys. God, how long did it take this woman to get in her house?

Peter hesitated, and MJ gave him a weird look. "What?"

"It… would be rude to leave before you actually got in the house. I mean… I would feel like an absolute douche…" Peter stammered for an answer and MJ laughed.

"What a gentleman…" MJ laughed. She quickly unlocked the door and pocketed her keys. "Oh yeah, I should probably give this back to you…" MJ announced as she began to slip out of the jacket, Peter's jacket.

"Oh… I actually forgot I gave that to you." Peter said, managing a weak laugh.

MJ closed the distance between them, pushing the jacket into his hands. "God, Peter. You're covered in goosebumps… If you were cold, you could've just asked for your jacket back."

"Yeah, of course. I know… But… you looked… uh.. you know? You looked um.. c-cozy? In it?"

MJ gave him a weird look. "Okay, science dork. Don't freeze to death because of me, okay?"

Peter forced a weak smile. "Yeah... Uh, I'll see you tomorrow MJ."

"Yeah, of course. Hey, text me when you get home, okay? New York's sketchy at night." MJ requested.

"Yeah, sure. Um… goodnight." Peter nodded and waved as MJ went inside. Peter finally let out a breath he was holding in. He tried to relax, but something was rubbing him the wrong way.

He glanced around the eerie neighborhood and started down the street to head home. His stomach felt like it was in knots and trying to calm his mind from the thoughts that something felt wrong was becoming increasingly impossible. He tried to convince himself that he was on edge for no apparent reason, but he knew his spider sense would not act up randomly. He had to investigate, even if he did not want to. His eyes were drawn to a house a few moments later when he heard a loud clatter. He curled his fingers, feeling compelled to explore this feeling further.

He crept closer, suddenly aware of how loud his footsteps sounded to him. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. There were no lights on inside of the house, and there wasn't a car in the driveway… however, a window looked like it had been wedged open that lead into the garage. Peter bit his lip. He should just call the cops… that was the smart thing to do, right? But it was like Peter was in a trance, he could not stop himself from tiptoeing further. Maybe he could just scare them… rattle a doorknob or something. If they thought someone was home, they would startle and leave. Just as he was about to put his plan into action, he froze in his tracks, hearing a voice coming from the garage. He… knew that voice.

"Flint, come on man. They don't have anything useful here."

Where… had he heard that voice? Peter crept even closer.

"Dennis come on, man. You're not even looking."

Dennis. Flint… those names weren't familiar to Peter. But those voices. Peter couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu. He was so focused on his thoughts, he didn't realize he had walked into the houses garbage can, knocking it over onto the pavement.

"Fuck!" One of the voices cursed from inside.

"Let's get out of here!"

There was a ruckus in the house as the guys scrambled to get out of the window, Peter taking a few quick steps back. God, the last thing he wanted was to be caught snooping. He quickly started away, ducking behind a vehicle on the side of the road. He took a few shaky breaths, trying to get his heartbeat down. He heard footsteps approaching, and it occurred to him he was probably hiding behind their getaway vehicle a second too late.

"What the fuck?"

Peter blinked up, seeing a man dressed in all black with a face mask on.

"Uh..." Peter managed dumbly.

"Dennis?" Peter glanced over at the other man, whose mask had been torn off. Peter took a few steps back, memorizing the face staring at him like he was vermin.

"I… I don't want any trouble." Peter said quickly. "I just heard noises… there's been a few break ins…" As he talked, he watched Flint scramble to put his face mask on.

"Dennis fucking do something!" Flint hissed.

"What do you want me to do?!" Dennis hissed back.

"He's seen my face! He will report us! Get rid of him!"

"No, No. I swear I won't… just…" Peter took another step back, eyes trailing down to Dennis' hand where he seen a switchblade. His eyes widened, Dennis grabbing his shoulder and stabbing him quickly. Peter did not even have time to react.

"Sorry kid," He whispered in his ear, turning the knife, and Peter's eyes darkened. He knew where he remembered that voice from… those words from that voice were the last thing he heard before the line had went dead the night Uncle Ben was murdered.

Peter stumbled back, his hand over the new wound as Dennis and Flint scrambled to get away. Peter tried to get a good look at the license plate before the car sped away, but he was too dizzy from the pain to get a good look. He looked down at his hand seeing that it was covered in red. He needed to get home as soon as possible.

Aaaaaand scene. I know this chapter has been a long time coming, but if you're still here, I hope you enjoyed. Sorry to end it on such a cliffhanger, but I figured that's what I needed to give you guys after disappearing for a few couple months there. Feel free to review if you'd like! I would love to hear your feedback.