Friend or Foe?
"Come on, Peter," the photographer mumbled to himself, "you can do this. Just step into the building." He tried to force himself to take a step and enter Barnes and Noble, but it was to no avail, for his pathetic, wimpy side that was girl-oriented held him back like a prisoner in shackles. He tried to reason with his scared-to-death-of-women mind, telling it to back off because he was just looking for books… sort of. The internal battle lasted no longer than a few seconds and Peter was just about to turn around and go home when she came out the front doors.
"Peter!" Cynthia cried. "What are you doing here?"
He froze in terror. He quickly plastered a smile on his frightened face and replied, "Hi! I, uh… I was just… going by and was trying to… I mean, I was thinking of getting a book, but I wasn't sure, you know?"
Cynthia giggled. "How about I buy you that drink or book you want?"
Peter blushed. "Well, um… are you busy? You seemed to be leaving just now."
"No, I'm just on a lunch break," Cynthia replied, shaking her head. "I can get you that Starbuck's a minute, chat, and then go. It's no problem!"
"Well, how about I take you to lunch to chat instead?" Peter suggested. As soon as he realized what he'd said, he mentally beat himself up. You idiot! his "woman" mind screamed at him. You never ask women out!!! You're going to mess up and she'll hate you! Besides, you can't start falling for anyone! Being Spider-Man could majorly endanger her life!!! But again, something in the far, hidden corner of his normal mind hinted at him that he was doing okay and that everything would be all right. It was the same "safety" feeling he'd had in the library when he'd seen her, and the same feeling he'd had when he'd dared to talk to her then and at the Bugle.
Cynthia broke into his thoughts. "Sure! That'd be nice! Come on; I'll get you your coffee then!"
Peter smiled and followed her into the bookstore.
* * *
After Cynthia had ordered her sandwich from Subway, she and Peter sat down and talked for almost an hour. To Peter, Cynthia seemed amazing. Somehow, something about her being kept him talking and communicating with her. Cynthia was just ecstatic to be actually conversing easily with Peter, who had always seemed so incredibly shy. He was sweet and kind, yet there was something strong and mysterious about him.
As Peter walked her back to work, Cynthia saw him shake his head, thanks to her perfected and sharp vision. "What's wrong, Peter?"
He looked at her, confused, and said, "Huh?"
"I saw you shake your head at something," Cynthia replied. At his amazed stare, she explained, "I have peripheral vision." It wasn't a lie; she did have peripheral vision, but it was just enhanced with her new powers, and she did not need to tell anyone that yet.
Peter nodded and explained, "Well, I just saw something. It was a tabloid dissing Spider-Man."
Cynthia's heart fell. "That's terrible. Spider-Man's so wonderful, and I hate to see him being put down all over the place."
"Yeah, me, too," Peter replied sincerely. "I hate the way your uncle always tries to make him look bad. And I have to take pictures of him for Jameson to use with his nasty blows… I mean, no offense to your Uncle Jameson, I just hate what he does!"
Cynthia nodded in agreement. "I actually totally agree with you. Uncle John doesn't even know him and he hates him."
"Exactly. And Spider-Man's so nice, too."
"You've met him?!" Cynthia's interest was immediately sparked even higher.
Peter smiled slightly. "Yeah, I-I know him."
"That's so great! Next time you see him, could you please tell him 'thank you' for me again?" Cynthia begged. She couldn't believe Peter knew the blue-and-red-clad hero.
"Why? What'd he do?" Peter casually inquired of her.
Cynthia fell into a daze. Quietly and happily, she spoke, "He saved my life." She poured out the whole story to Peter, who just smiled when she finished. "He's amazing. Will you let him know for me?"
Peter nodded with a grin. "Sure! No problem."
* * *
Spider-Man swung down to the jewelry store that was being robbed and landed right in front of the doors. People were running around madly in a big mob of chaos while the police yelled to the thief inside to give up his hostage and come out. Someone saw him and desperately screamed, "Help my dad, Spider-Man! The robber's holding him at gunpoint!!!" Peter's heart went out to the young woman and he replied, "No problem! Have no fear; I'll be right back!"
Just as Peter was about to go save the jeweler, the thief flew out the door in the air, and landed on his back right at the feet of the police. Everyone stared in awe, even Spider-Man, as a costumed figure walked out of the store. It was a woman, that was obvious, and her tan and black outfit resembled Peter's, close-fitting and stretchy with black boots included. Her mask had a cover of plastic with pieces off to the side of it to look like wings, and the mask covered her whole face, her mouth, nose, and neck enveloped in the stretchy material on her outfit. The most unusual thing about her though, was the extra fabric attached to her costume's arms, so when she spread the limbs out it looked like she had wings. The black head of a bird, maybe a falcon, was on her chest.
"Spider-Man!" the woman cried. She put her hands on her hips and demanded, "What are you doing here?!" The cloth part of her mask slightly muffled her words.
Peter stared at this new figure in shock. "Who are you???"
"I asked you a question first," the woman replied with a hint of pride in her voice.
Taken aback, Peter tried to hold his persona of Spider-Man by answering strongly, "I help people in need. I was here to save the hostage but I guess I didn't know you existed."
He could see her roll her eyes underneath the tinted yet transparent plastic that served as eye holes for her to see through. "Of course you didn't know I existed. I'm new in town," she stated matter-of-factly. "However, you've seen me now, you've seen what I can do, and I suggest you do not mess with me. Have a nice day!" With that, the woman raised her arms and flew off before anyone could stop her.
Peter stared at the sky where she'd disappeared until he realized the crowd was still there, most of them looking at him. Suddenly feeling stupid for being caught in awe of the costumed figure, he was about to leap up onto the building to leave when a policeman called out to him.
"Spider-Man! Wait! That woman's a hero. Was she a friend of yours?" He had obviously not heard the conversation between the two.
"No, she wasn't," Peter replied before he scurried away. His mind racing, he mumbled, "I think she was an opponent of mine."
* * *
Over the next few months, the rivalry between Spider-Man and the newly named "Falconess" grew. Many thought it was dumb how two heroes could be fighting against each other, and others understood why they did. It was a race for fame and glory, and only one would take the trophy.
Of course, there were other translations of the duo, too. J. Jonah Jameson automatically assumed they were a pair trying to wreak havoc on New York City. The Daily Bugle was splayed with attacking stories and pictures of the costumed figures. Hate was brewing in the hearts of some toward the two.
Love was blossoming as well. Only a week after having lunch with Cynthia, Peter got up his courage to ask her out, and they'd been dating ever since. Everyone who knew them knew they were nearly perfect together, and the couple thought so, as well. But secrets can hurt, and both Cynthia and Peter had one, which they hoped they'd never have to tell.
* * *
Six months into her and Peter's relationship, Cynthia invited him over for dinner at her apartment. Her brother and his girlfriend would be there, and she hoped it'd be a fun time of talking and getting to know each other better. When Peter arrived, Thomas immediately pulled him aside to play a video game with him. When the two had met, they had immediately become good friends, and when Thomas had learned that Peter was willing to be a part of his huge obsession to video games, Thomas took every opportunity he could to play with his little sister's boyfriend.
Cynthia's friend and her brother's girlfriend, Emma Singer, was helping her set the table for dinner when they heard the guys yell and saw them madly pounding away at the buttons on the controllers. Emma shook her head and asked in her own British accent, "Will they ever grow up?"
"I highly doubt it, but that's what I like about them!" Cynthia laughed. "Oh, boys! Dinner!"
"Wait! I'm almost done killing Peter!" Thomas cried.
"Oh, that sounded wonderful, darling," Emma replied with sarcasm.
"Of course it did! You love it if I win," he joked. "HA! Got you!" Thomas patted Peter on the back and apologized, "Sorry, pal. Hope you'd do better in real life."
Peter smiled. Thomas had no clue who he was talking to. "I hope so, too," he merely replied.
The group sat down to eat. The subject of Spider-Man versus Falconess came up, and Cynthia tried to act normal. She'd never had to deal with this before.
"Our amazing Uncle John always thinks they're together trying to destroy New York City or something," Thomas stated as he took a bite of salad.
"I hardly saw anything on Spider-Man in London until this Falconess appeared," Emma added. "Now suddenly papers have at least one story about them a week and how they're struggling for dominance over here in New York."
"It's a really interesting thing to think about - what do you think those two feel during these encounters?" Cynthia vaguely brought up a question so she'd look involved.
"Good thought… hey, Peter, you know Mr. Spidey. Does he say anything about it?" Thomas asked.
Peter nodded. "Oh, yeah. I hear him mumbling complaints about the Falconess and how she interrupts his work."
Emma said, "I bet she feels the same."
You bet I do! Cynthia thought in anger. If I could have one wish, it'd be to never see Spider-Man again by sending him to Antarctica!
* * *
Cynthia loved flying. As a kid, she'd always watched birds and wished she could do the same. Now she was fulfilling her dream, and it was spectacular.
Her enhanced senses picked up a burning office building and she headed towards it. "Duty calls!" she said aloud to herself. As she approached the structure, she saw people pointing at her and yelling her heroine name of Falconess. Entering through a blown-out window, she landed softly on the crumbling floor. Not hearing anyone in trouble, she decided to quickly check out the place to see if everything was okay before taking off again.
As she dodged a falling piece of wood, she saw a businessman lying on the ground, unconscious. Carefully picking her way over to the spot around burning debris and weak spots in the floor, she kneeled next to the man and was about to pick him up when she saw Spider-Man across from her, about to do the exact same thing. "You again!" she snarled. "Could you just leave me to do my job in peace for once?!"
"You call this peace?" he casually replied. "I wonder what your definition of war is then."
She laughed mockingly. "Keep that up and you'll find out."
Cynthia heard him sigh. "Look, Miss Falcon: this guy needs to be saved and I won't fight with you if it endangers his life."
She raised her eyebrows, knowing he'd be able to see the movement through her eyepieces. "Are you suggesting you'll be the one to save him?"
"No, I'm suggesting we stop fighting for the moment." Spider-Man pointed to a safe. "Take your pick: they want the money saved as well."
She hated being so mean to the wonderful figure that had saved her life, but he didn't know it was her, and he wasn't exactly being that nice to her anyway. She picked up the man in her arms and took him over to a window. "Thanks for being a gentleman and letting a lady pick first."
"If you consider yourself a lady," he mumbled.
"Very funny," she snapped as she held onto the man with her flexible feet and flew out the window. She hovered for a moment and said, "See you on the ground, Spidey!"
After handing the man over to the paramedics and sharing a cold glare with Spider-Man she flew off. She mentally screamed, letting out all her anger. Gosh, that was so tight of him, that bloody bugger!!! She kicked herself for swearing and immediately asked God's forgiveness. Sighing, she realized that her fights with Spider-Man were stressing her out so bad that she was beginning to do things she'd hardly ever done that often before, like swearing. She decided she'd take a break from being the Falconess, but she would wait a while yet. She was still enjoying her solo rescues and good deeds without Spider-Man too much to quit right away.
* * *
That night Cynthia went over to Peter's house to hang out and watch movies with him. They popped in Independence Day and snuggled up on the couch. Neither had been this happy with anyone before in their lives. They could easily talk together, be together, and be apart without being nervous or suspicious of anything. They loved walks in the park, conversing about deep and meaningful topics. They loved to have fun, dancing at parties or bowling at the lanes. And sometimes they loved things like this, just snuggling and enjoying each other's presence.
"Peter! Cynthia! I have some cherry pie for you both!" Aunt May announced, walking into the family room. She smiled her sweet way and said, "Do you want me to bring it in here?"
"No, I'll get it, Aunt May. Thank you so much!" Cynthia replied.
"No, Cynthia! I know how much you love this movie," Peter insisted.
She got up anyway, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "And I know how much you love your cherry pie!" With that she went to get the dessert.
"Now wasn't that sweet?" May spoke as she followed her nephew's girlfriend. "What a nice girl!"
You have no idea, Aunt May! Peter thought to himself. Man, I love her. I'm too lucky to have someone so special.
Later, as the movie was ending, Peter felt Cynthia shiver. "Are you cold, Cynnie?" he asked quietly, using his nickname for her.
She nodded. "A little."
"I can go get a sweatshirt of mine if you want."
"No, I'll get it. It'll warm me up!" she decided. "Middle drawer?" Peter nodded and turned back to the movie. Just as the world defeated the aliens, Cynthia came back down.
"Hey, you missed us win!" he cried. Then he saw her pale face and immediately became worried. "What's wrong, Cynthia?"
"I… I don't feel well. I think I should go home," she stammered.
Peter instantly agreed and drove her home. He parked her car in the garage and made sure she got up to her apartment okay. "Hey, if you're not feeling better by our date tomorrow, let me know, okay?" She merely nodded. "Hope you get better, sweetie." He kissed her on the forehead and watched her go in before he left.
* * *
Peter was Spider-Man. Cynthia couldn't believe it. She'd noticed a speck of red fabric with black stuff on it in his drawer when she'd looked for a sweatshirt. Only her perfect vision could've seen the miniscule amount of material showing, but she had, and now she was shocked. She was glad that Peter had at least bought into the idea that she was sick.
She understood why he hadn't told her; it was the same reason she hadn't told him. They wanted to keep each other safe. But keeping these secrets wouldn't keep them safe emotionally and it wouldn't do any good to their relationship, either. And yet Cynthia didn't know if she wanted to tell him yet, about what she'd discovered and about who she was. He hadn't meant for her to find out about him, and she knew he hadn't wanted her to. She decided to wait until he spilled the beans before she did. After all, it was a man's job to lead things, especially relationships.
* * *
The next night, Cynthia and Peter went out on their date to a relatively expensive restaurant. The two were seated in a booth and after they ordered, Peter couldn't help but stare at Cynthia again. She wore a short but elegant black dress with a matching silk shawl and her beautiful blonde hair was pulled up into a French twist.
"Cynnie, you look… amazing tonight," he commented.
She smiled warily and mumbled, "Thank you, Peter."
He frowned and held her hand. "Are you okay? Do you still feel sick? You're sort of… quiet tonight."
She sighed. "No, no. I'm fine."
Peter wasn't comforted. Something in her eyes was making him uneasy, and he pressed on. "Is there something you need to tell me?" There was a pause as Cynthia didn't answer. "I'm ready to listen," he added.
She shook her head. "No, I don't have anything to say."
"Cynthia, I know something's wrong. Just tell me!"
"No! It's nothing."
Peter paused. "So there is something."
"Well, no offense, but you seem to be hiding things as well!" she snapped back.
He was taken aback. "Like what?"
"How am I supposed to know? You tell me!" she cried.
"Look," Peter calmly replied, "let's just work this out, okay? A relationship can't be built on lies."
"Then tell me your secret first."
Peter froze. She knew something was up with him. Had she started to realize he was different, as in a superhero? There was no way he was ready to tell her. "I… I don't think I need to tell you yet!"
"Well, you don't need to know my secret then!" she fumed. Peter had never seen her so mad.
"This is getting us nowhere," Peter growled.
"You're right," she agreed vehemently. "I'm out of here. See you later, Peter." She started to charge out.
"Wait, Cynthia! You can't leave!" Peter yelled after her, knowing the whole restaurant was probably watching them now.
She whirled on her heel. "Try to stop me."
He ran up to her. "When will I see you again?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what to do right now. Goodbye, Peter." She quickly turned away and stormed out of the restaurant.
Peter clenched his fists and went back to the table, alone.
* * *
Cynthia stormed out of the restaurant. She was furious; why was he so stubborn to not tell her his secret? He was the man; he was supposed to be the leader. She knew he was shy, but he'd have to get past that if he wanted to be with her, because she desired an open and honest man.
Underneath all her excuses, she felt guilty. Before this had happened, she hadn't had a reason to tell Peter just yet. Now that they had realized they were each hiding something, she felt she should tell him sometime soon.
Cynthia was so lost in her thoughts that she had blocked out the world around her. She didn't hear people yelling at her, or the car honking and its tires screeching. Her super senses seemed slow, almost dead, as she turned her head to look at the car coming straight at her. Then everything went black as pain pounded her side.
* * *
Peter raced into the hospital late that night, his heart pounding and his mind full of worry and fear. He found Thomas and Emma and panted, "Where is she?! Is she all right???"
Thomas held up his hands. "Calm down, Peter. She's in the emergency room right now. We just have to wait."
The next few hours passed slowly for them. Samantha Zeigler, Chad Luker, J. Jonah Jameson, and Aunt May arrived at the hospital shortly after Peter did, and they all were quiet waiting for news. Peter was in turmoil more than the others; he might never talk to his love again, and the last thing he'd done with her was fight. He felt so wrong. He swore if she got better he'd tell her about his alter-self. He'd beg for forgiveness and apologize over and over again. He felt so guilty, so terrible.
Finally, they could see her. Cynthia lay on the hospital bed in a coma, bandages and cuts all over her body. Peter sat down next to her and did not move. The others simply stood around as Thomas started talking to her, instructed from a nurse to do so. Peter's heart was torn as Cynthia's brother quietly and emotionally told her he loved her, that everything was going to be okay, and related past memories of their childhood together.
They stayed all night, Thomas and Peter never leaving Cynthia's room, and Peter never leaving her side. A week passed, and the British woman still didn't come out of her coma. One night Peter and Thomas went to visit her again. It was a rainy and chilly October night, and the weather only dampened the spirits of the two. They entered her room and sat down next to the bed.
After a few minutes of silence, Thomas spoke. "Please wake up, Cynthia. If I skip work any longer back home in England, I'll be broke!"
Peter smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood and added, "Yeah, Cynnie. You have to wake up, or you won't be able to convince your uncle to like me more!"
"Oh, Uncle John likes you, he just doesn't dare say it," Thomas quietly told him. "But don't let him know I blabbed that to you, or I'll be dead!" Peter smiled at him, and he sighed. "I need a snack. Do you want something Peter?"
He shook his head and replied, "No, thanks, Thomas. I'm fine." The Brit left the room, and Peter turned back to Cynthia. He held her hand and rubbed it gently. Something felt weird. He frowned and rubbed more slowly, realizing Cynthia's hair was coarse. He squinted and looked closer. To his shock, his super-vision picked up that all the hairs on her arms and hands were tiny, tiny feathers. He was nearly blown off his seat from awe, and his head whirled in madness. It couldn't be true! So he had been yelling at Cynthia all those times he had encountered the Falconess? He couldn't believe it. On top of all his shock, guilt grew to a huge immensity and he felt sorry for everything, more than he had before. He had fought with her for the same reason she had fought with him, and then she'd gotten fatally hurt. Through his mass of jumbled thoughts, Peter whispered, "I'm sorry for everything, Miss Cynthia Falconess."
* * *
Cynthia flew through the cool night air with a renewed sense of freedom. A week ago she'd woken up from her coma, and she'd been released from the hospital yesterday. Now she was back in her Falconess costume, flying all over New York just for some peace. She had a second chance at life, and she had taken that chance right away. She and Peter had made up and forgiven each other already, though they both hoped the other would reveal their secret soon. All her rescues and heroic acts as Falconess now seemed more meaningful, for she understood death better. Life seemed wonderful, and she sincerely thanked God for everything she'd previously taken for granted.
She heard a scream from the streets below, and she dove, locating the troubled woman quickly. A burly man was trying to kill her in a dark alley, and the lady's frightened face lightened as she saw the Falconess approaching. Cynthia smiled beneath her mask, happy to know she had a positive effect on others.
Suddenly, a blur of red and blue knocked the murderer over. Cynthia sighed as Spider-Man quickly took care of him, and then turned to her as she landed next to the hero. Cynthia shot him a respectful glance that implied "good job," and Spidey looked surprised at the action. He ignored her for a moment, however, and gently approached the woman. "Are you all right, ma'am?" Spider-Man asked her.
She nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes! Oh, my goodness; thank you both!!! I saw both of you coming and joy welled up in my heart. You are truly a great team!"
The two heroes looked at each other with "if only she knew" looks. Cynthia spoke in her fake American accent, "Well, if you're all right, I guess we'll be off now." After the woman thanked them again and left, Cynthia sighed heavily. "Well. That was interesting."
Spider-Man suddenly seemed to become angry and hard. "Let's finish this. Now. Meet me on the roof." With that, he climbed up the side of the building next to them.
Cynthia's heart fell. She didn't want to fight Peter, but he didn't know that she knew that. So she bared her teeth, acted angry, and flew to the rooftop. She landed at the exact same time as Spidey, and they stood defiantly facing each other at opposite ends of the roof, two masked figures illuminated against the night sky by the bright city lights around them. If anyone had been watching and could have seen the hateful glares the two were shooting at each other, that person would have been scared out of his wits, knowing it was a face-off not far from a fight to the death.
Hands on her hips, Cynthia dared to speak first. "So. We meet at last, Spider-Man."
He acknowledged her with a nod. "Falconess."
"You seem to be constantly in my way," she stated with a tone of disappointment.
"As do you. What a coincidence!"
"And you keep ruining my perfect reputation." Cynthia hated snapping at Peter like this, but she had to play the role.
"Again, as do you," Spider-Man spat back.
The British woman growled in frustration. She put her hands on her hips and declared, "So what do you want to do about this? I'm not one to fight someone who's really done nothing truly wrong."
"No, I wouldn't expect you to. That's not like you, Cynnie."
Cynthia stood in shock. He knew. Peter knew it was her. Then again, she knew it was him. Not only had she seen the costume, but only Peter called her Cynnie, only Peter. Knowing it was of no use to her anymore, she took off her mask and shook her hair out. "How'd you know it was me, Peter?"
"Well, I no- wait! How did you know it was me?!" he cried.
She smiled. "I asked you first!"
Spider-Man pulled off his own mask, revealing the gentle face of Peter, and he sat down on the roof. "Wow. This is… weird. I mean, I couldn't believe it when I discovered you were the Falconess, but I can't believe you found me out."
She went and sat down next to him. "So how did you figure me out?"
"Well, at first, I never ever expected you to be her because I was dating you and you didn't use your British accent as the Falconess, but a few nights after you got in a car accident, I saw the feathers on your arms, and I knew. It was… scary," he finished with a small laugh.
Cynthia smiled and replied, "Yes, I thought so, too. And, by the way, you're the only one who calls me 'Cynnie' so that was a complete give-away."
"Really? No one? Not even Thomas?!"
"Nope."
"Well, that was dumb then, huh?"
Cynthia laughed. "Yes, I suppose. Anyway, I also saw a teeny tiny section of your costume that night at your house when I went to get a sweater from your room. I freaked. I had to leave, so that's why I acted sick."
"You looked sick; now I know why."
They sat in silence before Cynthia confessed, "I'm sorry, Peter. I shouldn't have snapped at you all those times we met."
"Me, too," he sighed. "If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have done it, either."
"But that's no excuse. We shouldn't have been so proud, so selfish. We should've talked nicely no matter who the other person might have been."
"True," Peter replied. He paused. "So we're both sorry, right?"
Cynthia nodded. "Yes. Definitely. I forgive you."
"And I forgive you." Peter smiled at her and then poked her arm muscles. "I just thought these were from you working out a lot. So how'd you get like this?"
Cynthia shrugged. "I really don't know how genetically, but I know how in light of events. That day at the Medieval Festival I was attacked by a huge falcon, and the next night I felt terrible: headache, dizziness, sore arms and feet… you name it. Then I woke up, felt amazing, and I was like this."
"Oh, so that was you in the Times!" Peter exclaimed.
Cynthia nodded. "Yeah, that article scared me to death until I noticed there wasn't a picture. So how did you become what you are?"
"I got bit by a genetically altered spider at a lab on a class trip my senior year of high school," Peter told her. Something bothered him, though, and he brought it up. "Cynnie, how could a normal bird change you like this?"
"It wasn't normal! It was twice the size of a normal peregrine falcon."
"That's what I mean. Where did it come from?"
Cynthia froze. "You know what? I honestly don't know."
"I'll help you find out if you want, because that sounds like an unusual bird to me," Peter stated.
"That'd be great! I have often wondered how it came to be myself." Peter helped her up and they hugged. Putting their masks back on, they walked hand-in-hand to the edge of the rooftop. With a shy tone, Cynthia commented, "Wouldn't it be great to see the faces of everyone if we told them?" Peter just laughed as they flew and swung away.