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Chapter 8: MJ's Surprise

Mary -Jane grabbed her large shoulder bag from the carousel, and went out of the terminal at La Guardia to find her pre-ordered taxi. There it was, waiting. Good, it shouldn't take as long getting across town. She got into the cab and gave her destination, then settled back into the seat; she considered whether she should take a detour and call in on Aunt May, but then thought of how long it would take before she would be able to get away, and decided to see her later.

First, she wanted to make sure Peter was O.K. She'd tried calling him a few times over the last couple of days, but only got his ansaphone; for some reason, she didn't feel like leaving a message, silly as it was. She was concerned about him - someone had pointed out a small article in one of the papers to the effect that Spider-Man was dead. She didn't really believe that… she heard so much rumour about Spider-Man over the years, that she automatically discounted most of it. She could guess where most of it originated anyway.

But after not getting hold of Peter on the phone… not hearing from him for a few days - that was unlike him. She wrangled a small assignment to New York, and thought to spend a couple of days there, staying in a hotel. But first…

Mary-Jane paid off the cabby, turned to face the building and sighed - what a squalid place. Picking up her bag, she entered into the small lobby and called the elevator. With much clanking and groaning it arrived, and the doors slammed open. M-J shuddered herself and got in - she hated small enclosed places. She closed her eyes as she went up. Peter's apartment wasn't much bigger, she knew.

Thankful to finally get out of the elevator, she knocked on Peter's door, and waited. No answer. She knocked again, and listened carefully. No sound. After another minute of waiting, Mary-Jane impatiently got out a set of keys from her bag. Peter had given her a key when he moved in - he obviously hoped it would encourage her to feel free to come back. Well, not in that way it didn't.

She unlocked the apartment and walked in.

"Peter?" she called out. "Tiger?" No reply.

Looking around, she noticed that the place was an unusual mess, but obviously lived in. Mary-Jane breathed a sigh of relief and put her bag on the floor; she'd make herself a cup of coffee and wait for Peter to come home.

Peter's furniture was worn around the edges - the wooden chairs and table were stained and battered; one of the table legs had a piece of folded paper under it. The couch sagged, and the bookcase was made up from an assortment of cheap shelving in different lengths and widths. The grey linoleum was worn in the high traffic areas in the kitchen and through the doorways. It had a faded red monogram spaced at intervals across the floor. Mary-Jane in wry amusement, read the intertwined letters: MJW.

As she went into the small kitchen area, Mary-Jane started noticing a few odd things. There were two mugs to be washed - well, she supposed Peter could have a friend for coffee. But then she noticed two bowls, left over from breakfast. Her eye travelled over the rest of the counter; a box of tea bags sat by the kettle - Peter didn't drink tea.

She turned and looked over the living area and noticed that the couch had a blanket pushed down at one end. There were a couple of plastic carrier bags on the floor; one had tipped over and a pair of jeans spilled out. Curious, she went and picked the bag up. As the jeans fell out, they revealed woman's underwear further in the bag.

Mary-Jane stood in shock, staring at the underwear. Is this why Peter hadn't rung her? She dropped the bag and turned into the bedroom - thank goodness, that was as tidy as it always was.

She checked out the bathroom, and became puzzled. Peter's Spider-Man costume was hanging up to dry - that wasn't what puzzled her - but there were no feminine toiletries. Mary-Jane went back into the living area and put the kettle on for that coffee; she didn't quite know what to make of it - if Peter had a woman staying, surely there'd be more evidence of it then there was? M-J took her coffee over to the couch and sat down. She had a peek in the other carrier bag - it contained a lot of tourist brochures; odd.

Well, anyway Peter himself was alive and well, and so was Spider-Man by the looks of it. She'd wait for him to turn up.

Mary-Jane took out her PDA from her bag, and checked it for any new messages - She returned one on her cell-phone and vaguely thought how useful it would be if Peter carried a cell-phone himself. She sighed - he couldn't really afford it, and it wasn't practical to his 'life-style'. Pity.

She sighed again - she should have known the rumour was just that - the call of Spider-Man was too strong for Peter to resist for long, with that sense of responsibility he had. Shame it hadn't included a sense of responsibility to his wife… M-J started to feel mildly annoyed. Just as well she had a job to do here. She got up from the couch and opened the windows - she was starting to feel claustrophobic. She hated being by herself for long periods of time as well. She looked out - it was starting to rain. Mary-Jane heard a rumbling then, she recognised it as the old elevator - someone had called it down - was that Peter? She headed back to the couch to wait.

Minutes later, the noise of the elevator stopped and the handle of the door turned. Slowly, the door opened and a woman stepped warily in, a stranger. Mary-Jane stared at her. The woman had no figure to speak of, and was not at all well-groomed; her short dark hair, a color between black and brown, stuck out; she was wearing no make up and her casual clothes were rumpled - she did have a tanned, open, friendly face though, and astonishing eyes the pale shining grey of the sea when the sun is burning behind a mist. She also moved with a fluid grace that reminded her of someone… At the moment she was surprised to see Mary-Jane there. Her mouth was open in shock - she must have expected to see Peter.

Mary-Jane stood up slowly. "Hi," she said. "I'm Mary-Jane Watson-Parker. And you are…?"

The woman's mouth closed, then opened again as she gained some composure. "Oh! Gidday, I'm Erica Stirling, I'm Peter's cousin…"

"I wasn't aware Peter had any cousins…" said Mary-Jane flatly. She eyed the woman suspiciously. She didn't know whether to believe her. She had a foreign accent.

"Neither was Pete until a coupla days ago. Distant cousins though. Our great-grandfathers were brothers. I'm from New Zealand by the way, so we're very distant cousins!"

"Oh, please!" Mary-Jane was not in the mood for ill attempts at humour. "Where's Peter?"

"Um, I don't know - I thought he'd be here. He must've gone out for something…"

"Stating the obvious. Well, you're apparently taking good care of him - tell him I was here when he gets back, but not to bother calling me."

Mary-Jane expected that she had intimidated this gauche woman enough - time to go. However when she looked up a second later after picking her shoulder bag up, she was surprised herself. Erica was standing tall with a no-nonsense air to her, her eyes and face reflecting Mary-Jane's own annoyance.

"Look," she said, her voice quite different in tone, authoritative even, "You came here to see Peter: you could do both yourselves a favour and stay until he gets back. Now sit! I'll make you another cup of coffee."

To her astonishment, Mary-Jane found herself compelled to do as she was told. She sank back on the couch and stared at Erica - she had made a judgement based on her appearance only, and it was a mistake. She of all people should know that appearances can be deceiving…

Erica busied herself in the kitchen while she talked.

"Pete's been reluctant to speak of you, but I can tell when he thinks of you - an almost desperate sadness comes over him. I've never really seen that sort of sadness before. He misses you. Now, you may think it's none of my business, but I do care. I don't like seeing people hurting like that." She waved her arm to make a point.

"Oh, yes, I've been 'taking care' of him - he's also been taking care of me. I've…not had an easy time of it since I arrived in New York. Peter has been very kind. But he doesn't need me; as much as the prospect of having relatives means to him as an orphan, he needs his family. And that includes you and Aunt May. Right. I've banged my drum enough now. How do you have your coffee?"

Mary-Jane didn't quite know what to think about this stranger now - she was being forthright, but not rude. Mary-Jane regretted her earlier rudeness - she had perceived Erica as a threat, but could tell from Erica's speech and manner that she was not. Chastised, she replied "Milk, two sugars, thank-you." Erica brought it over to her. She meet her eye as she passed the mug over. "I'm sorry," she apologised.

"That's all right," said Erica, restored to her good humour, "I sort of understand if you're pissed off at Peter, but no need to be pissed off at me too! I'll just go and grab my cup of tea; I've been dying for one all afternoon!" She came back and sat in one of the hard wooden chairs. "I've also raided the biscuit tin," she said, and handed M-J a plate with some chocolate chip cookies. M-J took one then passed the plate back. Erica helped herself to one and started munching. Mary-Jane was uncertain what to say - what did they have in common?

"How long are you in New York City?" she asked, mainly to fill in the silence.

"Uh, I'm not sure…" replied Erica, "I'm having trouble with my…arrangements to get home."

"Isn't air travel the worst sometimes. Did they loose your luggage as well?" Mary-Jane thought she understood why Erica appeared to have no luggage with her.

"Um, yes. They were going to put me up in a hotel, but it was right next to the airport, and while I was in New York, I wanted to see something of it, so I declined. Now they're trying to work out some deal or other… I'm on a tight budget and couldn't afford to keep staying in a hotel, so it's really nice of Pete to put me up like this... he values his privacy."

Mary-Jane suddenly remembered Peter's Spidey costume hanging up in the bathroom.

"Well, I hope they sort it out soon. Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." She got up and headed that way.

"Sure."

Once there, M-J fingered the costume - it was dry, good. Quickly, she took it down off it's hanger. Eventually, she flushed the toilet and when she left the bathroom, she shoved the bundled up costume under Peter's pillow. She wondered why she bothered; if Peter was careless about his secret, then why should she help him keep it? But she had no choice, not really.

Back in the lounge, Mary-Jane noticed that Erica had polished off the plate of cookies - how does she stay slim eating that sort of stuff, she fleetingly wondered. Erica had a thick book in front of her on the table and was holding it open with a hand and an elbow, reading it while drinking her tea. Mary-Jane craned her neck to read the title: Encyclopedia of New York City. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, but tourists usually went for guidebooks, or something a little less…weighty. She sat back down on the couch and took out her PDA again. She checked the time - how much longer was Peter going to be? M-J was about to ask Erica what she had seen of New York, when the clunking of the elevator started up again. Peter this time for sure.

They both heard him put his keys in the lock, and turn the door handle. The handle was rattled, and then the keys turned again. Mary-Jane smiled, she could imagine Peter's puzzlement. This time the door opened and Peter's damp head poked around the corner.

He saw Erica sitting at the table, and came in saying "How did you get in? I thought I'd closed all the win…" and then stop suddenly as he saw who else was in the room.

"Mary-Jane!" he exclaimed, "Oh, Mary-Jane!" He completely ignored Erica, and crossed the room towards Mary-Jane. She stood up to meet him. "Howdy, Tiger," she said. He really did have a sad air about him, but she saw the joy at the sight of her springing into his eyes.

He paused in front of her, his eyes not leaving hers, and then he folded her into his arms, "Oh, M-J! I've missed you so much!" He held her tightly for a brief moment, and then let go.

"Are you here for long?" he asked almost hopefully.

"I have a small job tomorrow, then I'm heading off again."

"I'm so glad you came to see me…I know you're busy…"

"You have been too, the last few days, I gather."

Peter looked startled. Now, why does he look like that, mused Mary-Jane, but she said, "I've met your cousin Erica. From New Zealand." She smiled, and glanced at the table. Erica was no longer there. That's funny, she hadn't seen or heard her go.

"Oh, Erica. Right." Peter turned to the table as well. "Oh, she's gone! Well, I guess she didn't want to be a third wheel."

"She's a bit… strange. Is she here for long?"

"Only until she finds out how to get home…" replied Peter absently, still looking at the chair where Erica had been. "I mean…!" he started correcting himself.

"It's O.K. She told me she'd been having problems with her air travel arrangements." Mary-Jane reached up her hand and touched Peter's chin lightly.

"Uh, yeah, air travel…" said Peter, looking back at M-J with a slight frown on his face.

Mary-Jane smiled again. There was so not something going on between the two, that was evident. She relaxed.

That reminded her… "I can see you're related; you both move the same way."

Peter looked agitated, "Whaddya mean?"

"Just something about the way you walk - you know, ready for anything." Mary-Jane laughed, "And you both can disappear very quickly." She gave Peter's cheek a quick tweak. "Well, whatever, she's given us some time to ourselves, let's make the most of it, shall we?"

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Next: Checks and Balances