8 Peter watched the news from his little warm nook on the floor. He didn't know why. Harry's death was everywhere. His deadline was postponed because of it. This was the second death that Peter could have stopped. He wasn't fit to be a superhero or even a regular Joe with arachnid genes running through his blueprint. After that MacQueen woman finished her bulletin, the buzzer sounded. Pressing the little intercom button, he gave a sigh of relief.

"Peter?"

"It's open, MJ." Letting go of the button, Peter grimaced as his bandaged hand stung. He had cut it after trying to clean up the mirror because he'd been too clumsy.

"Pete?" he spun around. MJ stood there in the doorway, the angel of mercy.

"Mary Jane.." he collapsed into her arms. MJ dragged his sorrow-filled body across to the sofa. She laid his head on her lap, as if he were a little boy and she his mother.

"Shhh." She stroked his head. It was very therapeutic.

"It's all my fault, MJ. I'm so sorry," he began to cry, to blubber like a baby. She could hardly understand him. It was unlike Peter to be so unhappy like this. He was usually so reserved, so on the sidelines. MJ wanted to say something to make it better.

"It's okay. We weren't really that close anyway." It didn't work. Peter cried harder. "There, there." He stopped sobbing, at least for a little while, and breathed in deeply. "What about this Spider-Woman? Describe her." Peter gave her a little 'Why?' look, then shrugged, dragged his sleeve across his nose and began.

"Uniform like mine, symbol, web design. Except, the colours were red and purple."

"Whoever she is, she has no fashion-sense."

"MJ!" Mary Jane saw through Peter's less than sunny exterior and saw his mouth twitch into a smile for at least a second.

"Sorry." She stroked his head a little more, letting him breathe in her perfume. Peter wanted to purr, to look up and kiss her glossy peachy lips, to savour her, to tell her he loved her and how he would eventually fail her. But he couldn't tell her that now. Her face turned sour and crinkled. "Wait, did you say red and purple?"

"Leave off it, MJ. It goes quite well. Sort of plum and bright red." Peter smiled a little. MJ would never quit when there was a fashion disaster.

"Oh my god.." Mary Jane stood up leaving Peter to sit up.

"What is it?" Peter stopped being the cry baby and made plenty of space on his shoulder, just in case.

"You remember I said that there was another person in the warehouse?" she started to shake a little. Talking about that day was clearly disturbing for her. "It was her." Peter stood up and held her shoulders. "She talked to Harry."

"He was there as well?" This was getting blown over.

"Yes. That glider thing was there.. I didn't really.... He was saying something about making sure I never left him again. He was a psycho." Peter flinched. "At least he was then. I'm sorry, Peter. That was really out of order on my part."

They both sat down and then MJ spotted the fragments of mirror and Peter's hand.

"Peter! Did you.." he nodded. "Oh, Peter." She stroked his bare face, traced the tracks of his tears with her finger and kissed him on the cheek. Peter looked dead into her eyes.

"I will always be your friend," he said solemnly, "I will always be there for you. I'm just scared I'll do something to hurt you."

"You couldn't hurt me, Peter," said Mary Jane with tears in her eyes. "You know me - always up for a challenge."

"I don't want to be a challenge to you, MJ. Why does it have to be like this?"

"It's too complicated isn't it. I mean, Norman's funeral.."

"MJ, I'm sorry if I was cold that day. It just wasn't the right time."

"What do you mean, not the right time?" Mary Jane shifted on the sofa.

"I mean.. What I'm trying to say is.. Mary Jane.."

She pulled him in, pressing his lips to hers. He was rigid in her arms but his lips felt the warm sweet taste of her lip-gloss and her personal space. Peter relaxed and held MJ's head in his hand and his arm round her waist. Their mouth's slowly opened, practically eating eachother with the hunger they had for one another. They slowed down a little. Peter had seen this in so many movies, dreaming of this moment and replaying it again and again but this was so different, yet somehow all the same. A small crush had just blossomed into a fully blown romance. Thinking of her kissing him helped him when the people he was trying to save screamed. MJ was there, she always had been, always would be.

"Mary Jane, you're so beautiful.."

Mary Jane was crying now. "I never knew you.."

"Since I was six years old." He laughed through the tears. "When you moved in next door. I asked Aunt May if you.. you were.."

"What, Peter?"

"You were an angel." She smiled and kissed him again. Their hearts and souls entwined. All of the passion and anger and hatred from their lives made an amazing energy that powered their intimate kiss. Peter kissed her shoulder and she took off his jacket. He undid her blouse and kissed her neck.

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you so much, Mary Jane."