Disclaimer: If reading this part of the story is really what you thrive on, then go to chapter 1 for the full disclaimer. But please come back for the rest of the story! Ok?

Author's note: Just how many people actually read the stupid disclaimers at the top? I mean, not that people are stupid or anything like that, but people should know that we, as fan fiction writers, are merely "borrowing" characters and plotlines and this is not the paid writers at work. Anyways, that's my rant for the day! Thanks to all who have read and reviewed my story so far, it means so much to this lonely "penniless writer" (A little play on Moulin Rouge.) Here's Chapter 2, Enjoy!

Author's note #2: Hey thanks to all you readers with patience to wait for the next chapter. I will promise to try and update as soon as possible. Especially once school starts, the updates may be every other week, at least or every three to four weeks. I'm really sorry!!!

Rating: PG-13/R, for language and sensual descriptions, depending on what chapter you're in.

One Night

Chapter 2

It started out just being concerned for her welfare, wanting to check and see that she was safe and sound.

After the last incident with the Green Goblin, he wasn't taking any chances on her well-being. He swore he would only do it that one time.

But before long, it grew into a nightly custom. Night after night, no matter what happened, after making his rounds and taking care of crime for the night, he always came back to see her.

He would sit in the silence as he had become accustomed to now on the rooftop ledge he sat on. * Hopefully, no one can see me from here. * Peter thought as he looked across the way to the next building.

The top floor balcony was dark and quiet. Even through the sheerness of the curtains, hanging as a veil, in front of the double French doors, hiding the outside world from the inside, no shadows or spots of light gave any sign of life in the apartment.

* Hmm. . . . I thought she got off at 6:00. She must've worked late tonight and not gotten off yet. * Peter rationalized in his head. But deep down, he couldn't help feeling a bit bothered, even though his trusty "spider sense" hadn't kicked in with any warning.

Taking his eyes off of Mary Jane's apartment for a moment, Peter looked up into the black sky, letting himself get lost in the millions of stars that hung above him.

After doing a bit of quick calculation in his head, he realized it had been over 2 weeks since he last talked to MJ. He thought back to that day, letting himself remember some of the moments of that day: Mr. Osborn's funeral, Harry's solemn vow to destroy Spiderman, visiting Uncle Ben, MJ's profession of love, that kiss, that passionate, smoldering kiss that he, within seconds, was rapidly drowning in.

But, as amazing as it felt to feel Mary Jane's soft, satiny lips pressed against his own, before he could let himself completely get lost in that kiss and in that beautiful redhead's lips, he knew what he had to do.

And he hated himself for having to do it.

It was for the best, he had kept telling himself, over and over, in his head, in hopes of being able to justify it to himself. * The ones you love will always be the ones to suffer. *

But, even after 2 weeks, he could still remember the look on her face as he lied. He could still recall the bright sparkle in her eyes fading quicker and quicker with every word he told her.

Even after turning and walking away, that image of Mary Jane was seared into his memory and into his heart.

He had spent the time since that day letting himself be completely absorbed by his jobs, both as freelance photographer and, as the New York's very own, Spiderman. Harry moved out of the loft a couple days after the funeral. He tried to convince Peter to move in with him into his father's mansion; having more than enough room to spare was one of the major points Harry kept making, he recalled.

But, finally, after almost 3 hours of attempted persuasion, Harry finally gave up. But, instead, since he wouldn't move in with him, Harry did something that Peter never expected.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Peter's loft, a few days after the funeral)

"C'mon Peter, what's keeping you here? Why won't you come move in me?" Harry said exasperatingly as he plopped down on the couch, watching Peter walk around the room, picking up and straightening things out. "And since when are you the housecleaning type?"

"Oh, get off me, I actually want to look like I live in something other than a pig sty. And with you leaving, that'll actually be a reality! Aunt May will be so pleased." Peter tossed a black cable sweater in his direction, landing perfectly on his face.

Harry plucked the sweater off his face and put in the box sitting next to him Standing up, he kept on with his pestering. "Ha Ha, you're a real riot, Peter. Now, quit avoiding the question and answer me."

Peter looked up from the dusting and sighed. "Harry, I told you, I'm not the high-stylin', mansion-living kind of guy. It's no offense to you, I mean, you're probably one of the only friends I still have, but I just can't."

Peter walked up to Harry and put a firm hand on his shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. "Besides, we probably would have killed each other in due time."

Harry broke out into a big grin and laughed. "Ok, ok. I get your point. So, is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

"Nope, sorry Harry. But if there's anything you need, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere, at least I hope I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you kidding?" Harry swung an arm around Peter's shoulder," I told you, you're the only family I have left. Since I can't get you to come live with me, I think I just came up with a wonderful.uh, business proposition for you. I inherited everything of my father's, including this building. What would you say if I made you the owner? "

"Harry, what in Go-"

Harry put both hands up and faced him. "Wait, hear me out. I sign the deed over to you, making you owner and landlord. Weren't you talking about possibly getting a second job? Well, here you go! It's the perfect job."

"Harry, have you completely lost your marbles? Why are you doing this?"

"Because," Harry started out, " You're my friend and I wanted to do something for you. Is that such a problem?"

"But, Harry-"

Harry cut him off. "I've decided. Besides, what's that old saying? 'Don't look a horse in the mouth'?"

Peter chuckled and smiled. "Never look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Yeah, that's it! So, what do you say? What have you got to lose?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Present Time, Outside MJ's apartment)

Peter had finally relented, much to Harry's satisfaction. He had now owned the building for a little over a week. Harry had been right about one thing though; it was a pretty good job. The other tenants paid him the monthly rent and, for the most part, everything went smoothly.

Because he hadn't given up his photography, as well as his "graveyard shift" job, he took some of his new found wealth and invested in a pager, so that any of the tenants could reach him, in case of an emergency.

* The never-ending story of my life: all work, no play, no life. *

Trying to find constellations in hopes of getting his mind off of the subject, Peter, out of the corner of his eye, noticed a flicker of light. As he turned to look at the source of the light, he noticed a flash of red walk by the window. * MJ's home. Thank God. *

He kept his eyes on the window as he watched her walk around the room, grabbing clothes and began to remove her uniform.

Feeling uncomfortable about watching, Peter turned away from the window. * Hey, even Spiderman is a gentleman. *

A couple minutes later, he heard a door open and saw Mary Jane walk out onto the balcony. She looked out to the city for just a second and then plopped down on a chair in the corner. She looked so stressed out, so frazzled as she sat there. * She looks so deep in thought; I wonder what she's thinking about. * Peter wanted to do something, but he thought it best to just stay, hidden under the shadows of the night.

Now, normally, this was the point where Peter went on home. Mary Jane was home and she was alright. But for some reason tonight, he couldn't tear himself away from MJ. The buildings were close enough to see her talking out loud. Peter couldn't catch most of it, but he could have sworn he heard her say 'Peter'.

So he sat there, watching her, the girl that Peter held in his heart, but would never hold in his arms. While shifting his position on the ledge, a big chunk of loose concrete broke underneath him, causing him to lose his grip on the ledge.

Fortunately, with his new, developing, and ever so quick reflex movements, Peter was able to shoot a string of webbing onto one of the buildings, swung to the side and held on while he watched the concrete plummet to the sidewalk below. * Oh God, I hope no one got hurt. * He looked down to see.

Much to his relief, only a few passerbys, who all seemed to be out of harm's way, gathered around the newly made crater. But their curiosities had them looking up to see what possibly could have created the fall.

* I better get off the building before they see me. * And that's when he heard her.

"Spiderman, is that you?"

He looked up and saw that the webbing had attached itself a little bit below Mary Jane's balcony. She was leaning over the railing, waving her arms and motioning for him to climb up.

"Spiderman, hurry, get up here!"



So..What do you think??? Let me know!!