Hello my lovelies, here is another chapter for you guys! Happy August! Enjoy. Please R & R 3
Peter wondered if the scent was in any way associated with color. Generally, green could be associated with pine, maybe something minty. Blue a salty sea, pink a whiff of bubblegum or rose, lemon traces of citrus. But what about white? What does black smell like? Or purple? Was color only associated visually or physically? He sighed, there was so much to wonder about in the world.
Closing his eyes to the soft mumbles of the coffee shop, he started to draw the formula for caffeine in his head. The aroma of coffee lingered within every atomic inch of the tiny café. If brown had a scent, it would be an earthy coffee fragrance. Taking another deep inhale of his double-shot espresso with a dollop of cream and drizzled honey, he waited.
Michelle was supposed to be en route to meet him at their favorite café, a small hole-in-the-wall place ran by some of Aunt May's old college friends. Peter had always felt welcomed and sometimes even got free left-over donuts from the morning rush.
After yesterday's confrontation in the Avenger's gym, Peter needed some normalcy and some time to think. He craved nothing more than a large cup-o-joe with quite regulars in a low-key neighborhood coffee shop. MJ always gave him peace of mind; she was his person.
The teen caught his first glimpse of MJ as she turned the corner pulling the door open, a soft smile tugging at his lips. She was beautiful. They had been texting nonstop since his birthday. She had been peppering him with questions—all the questions.
How did he get his powers? Did he make spider webs? What was the heaviest thing he could lift? What kind of advancements did he obtain? Could he sleep upside-down? Who else knew?
Peter was used to answering such personal questions with Ned, but somehow, with MJ he felt more exposed. The youth was glad there were no more secrets. She was a tough cookie for sure. It felt as if there was a weight lifted off his shoulders. He could tell MJ about his day, and actually, tell her what happened.
Perking up as MJ strolled next to his booth with her fresh drip cup, Peter slid over to make room for her to sit next to him in the booth.
"Hey there stranger," MJ grinned as she took a swig of her coffee.
"Good morning MJ, did you get your usual black?"
"Yup. Like my soul," the teen jested back. "So, what's the scoop on yesterday?"
Peter had been vague when answering her texts last night, he was expecting this. Mainly because he knew she was vehemently opposed to the teen even confronting the Avengers again. Since Peter let her in on what happened the day of his birthday, MJ was up in arms against the Avengers.
He recalled her furious words. How dare they attack you like that, without merit or provocation! They deserve to be sued. Or fined or whatever. Peter how they treated you like a common criminal was wrong on so many levels. Why the hell are you going back? Her angry words still ringing colorfully in his ears.
"It was okay, I guess." The teen bit his lip in contemplation, he was trying to find the right words. MJ's inquiring gaze searched his features, anticipating his words.
How exactly does one tell his girlfriend he is going to train with the people who tried to kill him? Peter took a deep breath. He looked anywhere but at her demanding orbs.
Whelp might as well rip the band-aid off. "I'm going to train with the Avengers."
"What?" MJ's staccato reply was quickly followed by a "Why?" Her displeasure clearly written on her face.
"Peter, what are you doing? Did you ever stop to think that this is probably a ploy to detain you again?" Her furious whispers made her point.
"Of course, I thought about that!" He rolled his eyes at her accusingly. "Do you remember what I was telling you about the Accords?" Peter whispered calmly, trying to assuage her anger. She frowned at his question, taking another sip of her dark roast while irritatedly scanning the coffee line.
"Yeah, it's supposed to keep track of genetically enhanced people and use them for their powers, all the while keeping them in check with the law." Peter winced at her words.
"Well—errh—kind of, not exactly though." But she had a point; it did sort of boil down to an infringement of rights and free will.
"I-I just can't… I can't be on the wrong side of the fence here MJ." Peter was already contradicted about his decision and having MJ add fire to the flame was not helpful.
"I can't always be on the lookout when I'm patrolling at night. Sure, I could handle one or two Avenger's on a good day," he licked his lips, and continued, "maybe a few times a month, but I wouldn't hold a candle to defend myself against them together if they pursued me daily."
He paused to catch his breath, before mumbling, "Plus, I suspect they're just puppets whoever their SHIELD contact is. I need to prove to them I'm not a threat, maybe then they'll leave my identity alone." Michelle's heated look morphed into concern.
She watched Peter's flustered explanation dwindle down as he took a sip of his coffee, waiting for her response.
"Shit, your serious Peter? About going to train with them?" She sighed, he could be a stubborn mule when he wanted to be.
"So, your plan is to prove to SHIELD you're not a threat to the city by training with their golden children? I'm really worried about this. At least, if you do go, don't show them all you can do with your spider powers, so you have some leverage in case things go AWOL."
"Well, yeah... I'm not exactly going to go around parading my powers of awesomeness to a bunch of trained superheroes." He laughed nervously, the tension breaking as MJ smiled wearily before meeting his eyes.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt Peter." She sniffled quietly.
"The Avengers are not your run-of-the-mill bad guys robbing a store. They can do real damage. Also, what happened to that crazy guy who tried to abduct you while you were in the tower? Was he SHIELD too? I just, I don't like this agreement." Her eye were wide and glistening with unshed worry.
"Hey, hey," Peter gently grabbed her hand, rubbed his thumb in soft circles.
"I don't know who the heck that crazy jerk was, but I know what he looked like and it definitely was not an Avenger or another super. He seemed like he had a few screws loose. But hey, think about it like this, if I go train with the Avengers, maybe I'll be able to get some answers or insight on their next move. Find out who that asshole was."
Peter's soft brown eyes worked his way from her worried orbs and down to the teens' hands.
"I promise I'll be okay," Peter gingerly lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.
"Fine you jerk," she smiled bashfully, "just come back in one piece, you hear?"
The teen let out a content laugh, "Sure thing, MJ."
The pair sat in comfortable silence, sipping their coffees before Michelle started to gather up her bag.
She looked at her watch haphazardly, "I need to get going for work, but I want to hear every word from today, got it Parker?" Peter met her intense stare and nodded in confirmation.
Peter gave a brief smile and half-wave as she exited the front door. Staring at his cup of coffee, it was half empty. Or was it half full? Who knew? Uh, it's too early for metaphysical questions.
The youth knew he was just prolonging the inevitable by waiting any longer to make his way to the Tower. He needed to know what game the Avengers were up to and the only way of doing that was to play a turn. Without further ado, Peter washed down the rest of his delicious creamy goodness called coffee and made his way outside.
Noise assaulted his eardrums, as cars grumbled past with pungent odors and squeaky wheels. Iridescence from oil puddles illuminated the rising mid-morning sun as the youth hastily made his way down to a quieter side street. Peter scouted around, searching for other signs of life.
Not seeing a soul, he proceeded to dig through his backpack and pull out a familiar red and blue suit. He'd done the best he could to patch up the burn holes and tears from a minimal home ec experience. Yet, despite his efforts, the fabric still looked a little rough and frayed around the edges. The young vigilante huffed at the suit-uation; it would have to do for today.
Sometimes—just sometimes—Peter wished he wasn't living nearly below the poverty line in one of the most populated metropolitan areas of the world. Tugging up the second arm into place, he put on his mask. The vigilante fluidly climbed up the of side an apartment complex, avoiding any prying eyes from below.
Pulling himself up past the fire escape leading to the roof, Peter gave a slight grunt at the pressured angle. His side was nearly healed after three days but was still a hot shade of tender pink skin. His other bruises and cuts had since faded to dull aches. Peter sometimes wondered if Spiderman would be here were it not for his super healing factor.
Alright, Peter, you got this. It's just another day of patrol. Scope out the situation, analyze the information, apply a plan of action. You're just training with a group of genetically enhanced and wealthy individuals in the super world. No biggie.
Blowing out a breath of anticipation, the teen swung off the ledge making his trek to downtown. It's showtime baby.