"Cause I like you, This ain't for the best, My reputation's never been worse, so, You must like me for me, Yeah, I want you, We can't make any promises, Now can we, babe? But you can make me a drink," Delicate - Taylor Swift

…

Trying not to think about Ned and MJ had been a failure for Peter, so he decided to try something else. It was like the opposite of the saying, "keep your friends close and your enemies closer." He would keep his temptations limited so he wouldn't end up getting too involved.

This meant he couldn't be wary of MJ or too googly-eyed over her when he visited the diner. But, naturally, his plan didn't work out.

He hadn't accounted for MJ starting a conversation.

"Hey, Peter," she said as he walked in, smiling. Her tone was more cheerful and light than it'd been in a long time. Peter hoped that their last conversation was helpful. But he saw a curious, almost mischievous glint in MJ's eyes. It was how she looked when one of her plans was working out.

Well, that makes one of us.

Peter lifted a hand and waved at her, trying to hide his surprise with a smile.

"What would you like today?" Peter leaned on the counter and pretended to look at the menu behind her. He was stalling for time to think.

"Uh, let's see," he said. What happened between then and now? I mean, not that it's a bad thing but- Peter had been staring too long. "I'll take a donut and a coffee, milk, no sugar."

Just before MJ turned to get his order, she opened her mouth. Then she closed it, hesitating. After another breath, she said, "Coffee's on the house. Just a small way to return the favor of last time."

Peter's eyebrows shot up, "Helped that much, huh?"

"It helped enough. But I'm sure you're doing more than we know of. Those wise words don't come from nowhere." MJ smirked at him, glancing sideways at Peter. MJ was playing him. This was exactly the expression she gave him when they were in their awkward flirty phase in Europe, on the boats in Italy.

But, Peter couldn't help but indulge in the conversation. A spark of hope burned in his heart–a tiny flame that made him feel more whole than he did since everything started. Could she be remembering?

He played innocent. "Where do they come from?"

MJ shrugged, "I was hoping you could answer that. I'd never seen you around, then here you are, offering advice to random strangers."

"Oh," Peter scratched his head, "yeah, I do that a lot."

MJ nodded, but she definitely didn't believe him. She was way too smart for that.

"So where do you get your skills?" MJ was heating his donut, and he figured he only had to survive this conversation for about a minute more. A part of him was relieved–despite all of the talks about keeping MJ and Ned safe and happy, he was too close to revealing everything. The other half was disappointed that he didn't have the excuse to spill. Wouldn't it just be easier to whisper in MJ's ear that he was actually Spider-man and that helping strangers was literally his career?

In many ways, yes, it would be much easier. He wouldn't have to suffer in silence, and unbeknownst to Peter, MJ and Ned would have the pieces they needed to pull their lives back together.

Peter was as honest as he could be. "Experience."

MJ, however, wasn't satisfied. She squinted as she put his donut in a paper bag and looked him in the eye. He read her expression well enough–she was trying to figure out exactly what "experience" meant. Then, her expression became neutral again.

"Hm. Where are you from, Peter?" She raised her eyebrows; her expression was confident. It eerily resembled her face when she asked, "What are you hiding, Peter?" back in Sophomore year. If she was on the same path to figuring him out, it meant danger for her. The last time she ID'ed him, Mysterio almost killed her and the rest of their friends.

Peter couldn't let that happen. But Peter also couldn't let her do something stupid, like not go to MIT so she could be with him.

MJ was looking at him expectantly. "Too soon to ask?" He almost forgot her initial question.

"Queens," he said. Peter resisted the urge to curse. That was a little too honest.

But MJ didn't seem surprised, only satisfied. "Maybe I'll see you around then. You know, while you're giving random strangers advice."

He had to laugh at the irony. "Perhaps." Peter thanked her for the coffee and was about to walk out the door when a thought pulled him back. "It can be dangerous to be so interested in stranger's lives, you know."

He meant it as a warning. But MJ shook her head, and her eyes were wild when she responded. "Are we really strangers though?"

Peter froze. He opened his mouth, but a nervous sound just came out. He knew his eyes were wide with panic, and if he didn't leave the diner then, he would explode. He walked out and stopped at the curb to take a last glance at MJ through the window.

She seemed to be biting her lip as if trying to put a very complicated robot together. Then she closed her eyes like she was meditating and grimaced. A single tear fell from her cheek, and Peter swore he saw her lips say, "So close."

Peter could only imagine what that meant. But his senses told him that she was figuring out something. If that something involved him and magically improved her mental state, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.

As he walked away, Peter became nauseous. If she started digging, she'd be getting herself into danger again.

The situation felt so delicate. While battling his own emotions and desires (and, of course, being broke), he was also pretty sure that an organized crime ring was becoming angry with him. MJ might be getting herself into something dangerous again.

Peter was at a loss. How could I truly protect them?

I can't. As soon as the thought came, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Their interactions were becoming like a chess game, except she was trying to use her queen as bait, and Peter, who should've taken it, was protecting it. Was it too soon to make it so complicated? He could always try to get into MIT and do it when they were in college. But that would take too long–by that time MJ would know, and he still wouldn't have fulfilled his promise.

Peter sighed. It became complicated as soon as he put on the suit.