Peter Parker took a sip from his cup of tea, regrouping from another battle of wits with his longtime friend and career companion.

"But why bother with the mess? You have to wonder how they chose such corporal punishment back then."

"Didn't you study this in your history class? It's your national affairs."

Of course, Michelle Jones would turn the tide in her favor by questioning his accountability and memory skills. Classic MJ.

"I don't think schools make a habit of studying the guillotine."

"Maybe if you picked up a book now and then."

"Shut your mouth, I read."

"Comic books," she countered.

He scoffed, and admitted temporary defeat.

"Speaking of reading. The Fury script?" she inquired, taking a sip of her coffee.

He mirrored her, with the innocence of a five year old that stole another cookie.

She waited it out with a single raised eyebrow.

"I didn't actually get around to reading it."

"You think it wise to ghost Nick Fury."

"I'm not ghosting him. You have me on a very tight schedule."

"Did you decide you weren't going to work next year, and not tell me?"

"I would never," he scoffed playfully.

Then with a shrug of his shoulders, "Probably couldn't pull it off anyways."

She nodded, "Remember that."

Seeing the time on the clock over the entrance door, MJ pulled out her wallet and waved their waitress over. The female bounded up to Peter's side, as if he was the one to summon her.

"Outro pote de chá, Senhor Parker?"

He shook his head.

"No, obrigado. Mais um," he picked up his half eaten croissant, "por favor?"

"Claro," she replied, a little pep in her step as she walked back behind the counter.

MJ shook her head as Peter sipped the rest of his drink, continuously oblivious to the damage he caused.

"Stop charming the waitress, you're setting me up for a bigger tip."

"She was nice."

"Decent."

"I'm sure you can remember what living on minimum wage was like."

"Were we ever that lucky?"

The waitress brought over Peter' croissant, with the bill, when MJ put fifty dollars worth of currency on the table.

"Ficar com o troco," MJ insisted.

Since she first took their orders, the waitress smiled at MJ and looked ready to cry.

"Obrigado, bela dama."

She pocketed the dollar, winked at Peter, before clearing their plates.

MJ ignored the soft smile on Peter's face

"Ready to go, loser?"

"If we must," he agreed, unfolding his pair of sunglasses and donned his coverage with half-heartedness.

They stood from their seats, and just before exiting, MJ reached over to fix the collar of his jacket. Peter made a show of rolling his eyes, but she didn't care. Holding the door open for him, Peter stepped out into the blinding storm of camera lights and abrupt questions.

"Peter, is it true that you're moving back to New York?"

"Onde está a tua namorada, Liz?"

"I love you, Peter Parker!"

Peter acknowledged the love-struck cry with a smile and a wave in the general direction. MJ ushered him into the van's back row, before stepping into the space in front of the mob.

"Senora Jones, qual é a sua relação com Peter Parker?"

The small glint in her eye was enough to make Peter smirk. He saw it coming before they could.

She beamed a gorgeous smile at them, before raising her middle finger up into frame. She held it for a good moment, before climbing into the van herself and telling the driver they could leave.

Classic MJ.