People got about their day. Before long, evening hits, and everyone is in mad scramble to get home for the night.

Well, not Peter.

Because he only got breakfast after 11AM, at what is now 7PM, it's time for late lunch/early dinner. He goes to his favorite deli-grocery, Delmar's, where Mr. Delmar faithfully and dutifully attends to the counter. The main dinner rush being over, Peter is the only one in the line.

Mr. Delmar is making a sandwich for someone when he looks up to see his latest customer. Peter is a complete stranger to him; he no longer knows what Peter's usual is and he has no knowledge that he is connected to May.

"Sir," Delmar greets Peter, nodding once. "What can I get for you?"

"Uh, I'll have the number 5," Peter says, "with pickles, and could you smush it down real flat? Thanks." He grabs a couple packs of gummy worms from a rack and sets them down on the counter. "I'll take this, too."

"That'll be five dollars," Delmar states.

As Peter pays, on the inside, he's crying out for attention from someone, anyone he recognizes. He used to have a good connection with Mr. Delmar. They spoke, they laughed, they ate. He was probably the closest thing Peter had to a male authority figure. All those sandwiches eaten together, ignoring the busy rush of the lunch crowd. All those late nights studying in the shop, the only sound being the slosh of the mop bucket while Mr. Delmar cleaned up. All those conversations about life, the do's and don'ts of life in New York. All gone. Peter remembers it all, every detail, with precise memory, forged in the fires of friendship, misfortune and tragedy; sadly, tragically, Delmar remembers none of it.

Thinking about it all, Peter zones out of the sounds, sights, and smells of the grocery-deli, staring into the abyss of nothingness. When he hears someone say "number 5," he snaps out of it.

"Number 5," a woman at a food shelf behind Peter says, standing with her back and her black ponytail to Peter. "It's the best choice on the menu."

The voice is familiar to Peter; it is the friendliest one he has heard in a long time. "Yeah," Peter agrees. "That's why I bought it."

Delmar hands Peter his sandwich. Peter thanks him, takes his sandwich, and is about to leave when he glances back at the woman who spoke to him.

Sure enough, it's Kate. She's too busy looking for the best of the day's deal on the shelf to notice Peter. She's looking at potato chips, trying to decide what brand, what flavor, and what deal to buy.

Peter tries to resist forming a bond with someone, but he can't help himself. He walks over to Kate and grabs a certain bag of chips off the shelf. "Here," he says, handing the bag to Kate. "Get these. They're my favorite."

Kate just now sees that the man she was talking to, was the man from earlier. She is visibly shocked and caught on the spot. "Okay, I'll try those," she says, taking the bag.

Neither moves. Neither wants to. Both try not to look at the other, only catching fleeting glances when they can, taking the utmost caution to not be seen peeking.

Peter tries to cut the encounter short. "I'm going to… go home now," he says. "I've got my sandwich, and kind of want to eat it."

Kate sees her chance. "If I got a sandwich, do you want to find somewhere to sit down and maybe eat the sandwiches together? If that's okay with you." She is very proud of herself for being smooth.

"Yeah," Peter reacts. "I'd like that." Finally, someone has reached out to him. Finally, he has a friend. After weeks of loneliness, he is about to have someone. He doesn't even care about keeping people away from him; he wants this, more than he knows he shouldn't have it.

Kate grabs an extra bag of the chips. "On the house," she says to Peter. She goes to the counter to pay for the chips and get the sandwich.

"Ah, Kate!" Delmar greets Kate when he sees her. "It's good to see you again. Staying out of trouble? You know, there's been a lot of crazy mafia stuff and sword-killers out there lately."

"Yep," Kate replies, "staying out of trouble. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Hmm," Delmar reacts. "What can I get you, the number 5?"

"Yeah, please," Kate says, "and with no pickles."

Peter interjects, "No pickles? But the pickles make the sandwich!"

"Yeah," Kate responds, "they make the sandwich BAD. Look, don't get me wrong, I like pickles, just not on the number 5. Something about them combined… mm-mm."

Delmar makes Kate her sandwich, and she pays for her purchases. She and Peter leave the deli-grocery side-by-side, crossing the street and walking down the block. Both waits for the other to say something. The result is neither says anything. They're scared to make the first move, scared of rejection.

For Kate, this is simple, a chance at a date with a cute boy.

For Peter, it's a lot more complicated: he wants to be Peter Parker, but he also wants to be Spider-Man. If an enemy found out he was with anyone, whether it was a family member, a friend, or a girlfriend, then the enemy could use that person as leverage against Peter. That hurts everybody. That said, this is Peter's first chance at any kind of friendship in a long time. Lonely, desperate, he decides that he is Peter Parker, for now. That doesn't mean that he just shirks his responsibilities; by being with someone, he needs to keep her safe.

He breaks the silence. "It's pretty cold out," he comments, not wanting to sound direct or bossy. "It's a lot warmer back at my apartment."

In the back of Kate's mind, not trusting anybody she doesn't fully know, she is concerned about Peter's intentions. However, she trusts herself enough as a fighter, should she need to fight. Additionally, if it had to come to that, she has 2.5 centimeter/1 inch's height advantage on Peter, making a duel easier. She understandably doesn't trust men she doesn't know. "So," she asks, "are we going back to your apartment, then?"

"Only if you want to," Peter replies, "but, I mean, it doesn't really matter to me. We can go wherever." He doesn't want to scare Kate off by being too fast about going back to his place. He has no bad intentions whatsoever; he just wants love, any kind of love.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Kate says. If she can do what Peter apparently wants to begin with, she figures she can be more likable.

The walk back to Peter's apartment is awkward. Neither of them speaks, again, both hoping the other will. Additionally, because both has worked with an Avenger and taken on a villainous opposing faction, neither trusts the other, not yet. Kate knows she has good martial arts skills, in case Peter does anything foul. Peter knows he has spider powers and his Spider-sense, in case Kate does anything foul. They both realize that they haven't shared names; they don't even know each other's names! This date, if one can call it that, is off to a horrible start.

Peter decides to try to correct that. "I'm Peter, by the way," he says.

"I'm Kate," Kate replies.

For the rest of the block, again, they are silent. Both feel uneasy and nervous. Shortly after, they get to Peter's apartment building and head upstairs to his apartment. As Peter gets out the key and unlocks the door, Kate asks him, "What are we going to do in here?"

"Huh?" Peter reacts, opening the door and holding it open for Kate to walk in first.

"If you try to pull anything funny," Kate says, walking in, "I'll have you know I'm basically the best martial artist in New York for my age."

"How old are you?" Peter asks, scared at Kate's remark and forgetting the social stigma to never ask a woman her age.

Shamelessly, Kate says, "I'm 22."

Peter turns red, feeling more awkward than ever. "I'm only 18," he mumbles.

That is not the number Kate expected to hear. "You look older than that," she says.

"I do?" Peter reacts. "Well, I did blip, so technically I could've been 23."

"I didn't blip," Kate says, "so I guess we're only a year apart?"

"I mean, if you want to get technical…" Peter says, not finishing the sentence.

"I mean, I thought you were MY age," Kate chuckles. Seriously, she adds, "If I'm making you uncomfortable, I can leave."

Strangely, this offer from Kate makes Peter feel a little better. "No, no, it's okay," he says. "Please, stay. I don't ever get the chance to have people over. This is nice."