Excuses, Excuses ... (Part IV)

A/N: Another installment of my talky, fluffy fic: here's the flight of Peter & MJ, (along with a few other events and reflections). I debated skipping the flight, or only making it a paragraph long, but some nice reviewers asked to see it, so here it is. Oh, and I'm not sure if my description of that police cruiser's angle and position is accurate – I couldn't remember exactly how it looked. When the DVD comes out, I may edit that part if necessary.

It was a minute before MJ felt brave enough to open her eyes and look around; even then, she was careful to avoid looking down into the black canyons of the city streets below them. Yet, although their swinging motion was still exceedingly fast, it had developed a regular, almost a soothing rhythm, and they stayed fairly level near the tops of the skyscrapers. MJ realized that Peter was casting web after web, releasing each one before they had time to drop far, and catching the next almost immediately. It meant that they were hurtling forward at an incredible speed – faster than the fastest car ride she'd ever taken, faster even than the law-breaking speeds her old boyfriend Flash had loved to reach in his fancy silver convertible. However, it also meant there was no sickening plunge towards the streets, no sensation of falling. MJ felt a little thrill as she reflected that Peter was controlling their motion for her sake, so that she would feel safe.

"You okay?" Peter called to her. He felt guilty that he had leaped out the window without giving MJ any warning, frightening her unnecessarily with that first dive. But as they'd stood together on the window sill, he had been drawn into her emerald eyes, noticing for the first time the tiny gold flecks in their clear depths. They were so inviting that he'd felt the almost irresistible desire to kiss her. He'd needed to do something quickly to stave off an urge that had been growing all evening, increasing every time their eyes met. It had been almost a reflex action for him to pull on his mask and to launch them both into the air.

Now, he was relieved to notice that she was relaxing in his arms, her heart rate slowing, her breathing becoming steadier. Not that this made him any calmer, unfortunately. Whether she was pressing herself desperately into his body, frantic with fear, or nestling comfortably into his chest, as she was at the moment, the feeling of her soft curves against him was so pleasurable that it was all he could do to keep his mind on where they were going. Remind me again, he thought sardonically to himself, why you thought it would be a good idea to hold the woman you love in your arms? You're trying to let her go, to let her get on with her life, remember?

"I'm fine now," MJ responded to Peter's question. She was feeling embarrassed that she had screamed. Peter would think she was a baby or a coward, unable to appreciate the exceptional gift he was giving her. "I know you'll keep me safe – you won't let me fall." As she said this, she realized it was true. She felt completely contented, at ease and secure in Peter's arms, even though he kept shifting her around, changing the arm wrapped tightly around her waist in order to cast webs in different directions and maintain their momentum. His broad, muscular chest felt reassuringly solid, the arm around her waist as strong as iron, the powerful muscles of his shoulders, which were bunching and flexing as he shot out his web lines, firm under her hands. She spread her fingers involuntarily, stroking them lightly.

We'll see about that, thought Peter, closing his eyes beneath his mask at the incredibly sweet, tingling sensation aroused by her fingers as they delicately touched his back.

"I won't scream again," MJ promised. In response, Peter held onto the line that he had just caught, and they swooped down swiftly towards the street below, in a steep motion that was wilder than the wildest roller-coaster ride. MJ immediately broke her promise by letting out a little scream, this time of delight, and they both laughed.

"See? It's fun," Peter said, as they rose up towards the sky again. MJ had to agree. The world around them was dark and mysterious, the lights of the office buildings turning into mere streaks as they whizzed by. MJ would have found the experience terrifying if it weren't for the warm solidity of Peter's body. With Peter, it was exhilarating. She couldn't help but be impressed by his control, his speed, and his strength. The webs seemed to be coming out of his own body, and MJ marveled at the dexterity and stamina that allowed him to grasp an almost invisible thread in the darkness, and to use his muscles not just to hang onto it but to propel himself forward so rapidly. Remembering how much she'd hated climbing up ropes in gym class, MJ knew that Spider-Man's web-slinging must require a massive amount of strength in his arms and chest.

At the top of their latest arc, Peter let go of his thread, and for a moment they were flying, suspended in mid-air, and then falling forward into the soft darkness. Suddenly, he cast another web line to the right, caught and held it, and they were hurtling toward the street again, the wind whipping some of MJ's bound hair loose around her face. This time Peter let out an exuberant "Whoo–hoo!" as they swept over the top of a low building and began climbing back up. MJ's heart had nearly stopped, but she didn't mind; the sensation of freedom was glorious and Peter's enthusiasm was infectious.

"There's something I need to take care of," Peter called to MJ, as he let go of the thread high in the air, and caught a web line that pulled them sharply to the left. "I just remembered something I forgot to do. Do you mind?" MJ thought about all the times Peter had said the exact same thing to her, and then disappeared, not to be seen again for weeks, sometimes months. She could only conclude now that he must have been referring to spidery "somethings" all those times, and felt a little excited to see what it was he was going to do this time. For once, she wasn't being left behind.

"Sure," she said agreeably, and Peter changed their direction, doubling back the way that they'd come. They traveled for a few moments in silence, with Peter casting web lines one after another without a break, keeping them high above the city while propelling them forward quickly. Then abruptly he began angling them down toward the streets, controlling their descent with his webs but allowing gravity to pick up their speed, until the lighted windows of the nearest building raced past and the top of a small brick apartment building loomed suddenly in front of them. Instead of landing on top of this building, though, he vaulted over the edge of it and landed on its front wall, shifting MJ to his hip and bracing himself on the wall with both feet and a hand.

MJ realized that Peter was lowering her onto the top of a fire escape and stretched her feet into the darkness, trying to feel for the metal floor with them. As soon as she touched it, Peter withdrew his arm, and she had to catch a rickety railing in front of her to keep her balance.

"I'll be right back," said Peter, still clinging to the wall above her, but looking off into the distance, at something MJ couldn't see.

MJ looked up at him archly. "How many times have I heard that before?" she said teasingly.

Peter did a double-take. "Of course I'll be back – what, you think I'm going to leave you up here?" he asked. "We're fifteen stories off the ground, and the ladder on this fire escape isn't extended."

MJ dimpled. "You'd better be back, Tiger," was all she said. Disconcerted, Peter didn't reply, but instead leaped sideways off the building onto another building opposite; then he zigzagged his way rapidly to the ground by leaping back and forth between the two buildings. As he neared the bottom, he caught a light pole with a web line, and swung himself out over the nearby street. MJ could see that they were near a major intersection, which was where Peter appeared to be headed. Suspended over one of the street corners of the intersection was the one of the weirdest sights MJ had ever seen. There appeared to be a white car just hanging in the air, angled downward. At this distance, she couldn't see what was holding it up, but she was willing to bet that she could hazard a guess.

Peter landed lightly just behind the police cruiser, which was still suspended in the air. He could see that the entire area had been cordoned off and that the intersection was blocked with orange traffic pylons and detour signs. He was kicking himself mentally for not remembering the car sooner; usually, when he left heavy things suspended in webs, he liked to come back and take care of them right away. He never could be sure how long one of his webs would last – some appeared to last 24 hours or more before they dissolved, while others broke down in a matter of minutes. He supposed it had something to do with how thick they were and how carefully he had spun them, as well as the amount of weight they were supporting. The criminals he tied up usually stayed that way, sometimes for hours, because ordinary people didn't seem to be able to break or even cut through the web-strands. However, the heavier the object, the more quickly the webs seemed to unweave themselves, and cars were pretty heavy. He knew, too, that he'd caught the flying police car as swiftly as he could in order to save those pedestrians who were waiting for the light to change, and he was afraid that the webs he'd used to halt its momentum weren't thick or strong enough to last long.

Sure enough, when he approached the cruiser he could see it swaying dangerously. The strands supporting it had begun to weaken. The vehicle itself, which now had a door hanging open on the driver's side, appeared to be empty, and there were no people nearby, thank God, but he could tell that car was still going to come down heavily any minute, damaging itself, the sidewalk and the possibly the building behind. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he have forgotten about it? He felt guilty as he realized that he had no idea how much time had passed since he'd averted the car crash; he'd allowed himself to become distracted with MJ for far too long. Just one more reason why a superhero couldn't afford to have a girlfriend, he thought unhappily.

Trying to decide how to get the car down, he jumped sideways onto a nearby wall, where one of the web strands was still attached, in order to inspect it. In the light of a nearby street lamp, he could see that it was slackening and losing its tensile strength. He didn't like to take hold of it, in order to lower the car down to the ground slowly, for fear that it would break and crumble to nothing in his hands. He sprang forward off the wall, doing a somersault in the air and landing in a crouch just below the sagging cruiser. Straightening, he looked up. The car was too high overhead for him to reach it from the ground. He could leap up, he supposed, and pull on it, but it would be difficult to control its rate of descent or its landing from midair.

As he was deliberating, he heard an ominous creak and felt his spider-sense flare in warning. The cruiser was coming down now, he realized, taking the decision out of his hands. The remaining strands all seemed to snap at once, and the front end of the car dropped like rock towards his head. On instinct, he raised his arms and bent his head forward, feeling a crushingly heavy weight fall onto his shoulders and upper back. Knees bent, teeth gritted, he held onto the front bumper of the car with his hands and forearms for an agonizing second, supporting the vehicle's whole weight with his shoulders, while he tried to control its descent. Then he shoved it backwards off of him, in the general direction of the blocked intersection. It fell down with a loud bang and a crash, as first the back then the front hit the ground hard. Peter spun around. Miraculously, the police car had landed on its wheels, and none of its windows were broken. The front end was dented, but perhaps that had happened during the car chase. He let out an exhausted breath, and took hold of the cruiser's bumper again, lifting and rolling the car out of the intersection, towards the side of the road. He left it neatly parked by the curb, just around the corner from the intersection. Then he turned to leave.

A small knot of two or three onlookers had gathered to watch, and as he cast a web line to take himself back across the street, he saw someone push toward the front of the group, yelling, "Hey, Spidey! Wait!"

It was a police officer. He had his hands raised in a placating gesture as he ran towards Peter, and he called out again, "Wait! I'm not gonna arrest you."

Peter paused reluctantly, holding the line tightly, ready to give it a tug and use its elastic tension to zip himself up and away if necessary.

As the cop ran right up to him, Peter could see that he was young – perhaps just a few years older than he was himself – and burly; he was also a fresh-faced red-head, and probably a rookie. Breathless, the cop extended a hand, palm up, and said, "I just wanted to shake your hand. You saved twelve people from being crushed by that police cruiser tonight – and the two officers in the car. I took down some of the witness statements myself."

Completely dumbfounded, Peter just looked at him. Only two other people had ever thanked him; a mother whose baby he had saved from a fire set by the Green Goblin on Thanksgiving a year and a half ago, and MJ, with her perfect, unforgettable kiss in the rain. To be fair, he didn't usually hang around long enough to allow people to thank him. Still, this experience was so novel that he found himself totally at a loss.

Realizing that the silence was becoming awkward, he took one hand off of his web line and grasped the cop's hand firmly. The two men shook hands. "Uh ... no problem," said Peter, still flabbergasted by this unexpected event. "Officer ...?"

"Flaherty," said the cop. There was another awkward silence. "Wait till I tell my four year old that I shook your hand," he went on after a moment, with an air of suppressed excitement. "He's a big fan of yours."

Another silence. Peter didn't know what to say to this.

"Oh, and we finally got those two crooks who caused the accident off of that street light," Officer Flaherty added, after a few more seconds of awkward silence. Initially rather tongue-tied in the flesh-and-blood presence of the amazing Spider-Man, he was obviously starting to get over his awe. He chuckled to himself and said, "Hanging them together by their hands – that was pretty funny, actually. You know, we couldn't break the stuff that they were dangling from. It took two fire trucks to get them down – they had to be lifted over the light pole. I've heard that they're still linked together."

"Uh ... great," said Peter, feeling like an idiot. It was really silly of him to leave them up there like that, he realized. He hadn't thought about the trouble it would take to get them down. "Did they get arrested?" he asked in concern.

"Oh, yeah," said Flaherty with relish. "They're scumbags, part of a gang that's been knocking over pawn shops and money marts all over the city. We had a tip off about their next target, and were ready for them tonight. I wasn't there, but I heard about it from some of the guys on the force. There were 5 witnesses to the robbery itself. Then, because we'd cut off their route to their getaway car, they shot some kid and carjacked a convertible. There were witnesses to the shooting, too."

Peter felt sick. "What happened to the kid?" he asked. He had a feeling he knew.

"He didn't make it," said Flaherty quietly. "They shot him in the face. He was only 17 – borrowed his dad's car to take his girl out on a date. They shot the girl, too, but the bullet went through her shoulder. She's gonna be fine."

I doubt that, thought Peter bitterly. All of a sudden, he remembered the convertible. "Uh ... about the car ..."

"We found it," reassured the cop. "Smart of you to leave it in a no-parking zone. We still haven't got the money and the stolen goods out of the backseat though. They're all stuck in one of your webs."

"Sorry about that," said Peter, feeling even more idiotic. "I didn't want anyone to take the stuff." He thought about the kid who had been shot and added grimly, "I hope you put those guys away for a long time. I have issues with carjackers."

"We will," said Flaherty, with equal grimness. There was another awkward silence, and then Flaherty said in a rush, "I just wanted to tell you ... no matter what the papers say, some of us on the force, we think you're a real hero. You make our jobs a lot easier."

"What's your four-year-old's name, Officer Flaherty?" Peter asked, to cover his embarrassment.

"David."

"Well, tell David I said Hi," said Peter. Then he pulled back hard on his web line and leaped into the air, using its elastic force to propel himself into the side of the building across the street, then alighting on it five stories up from the ground. Depressed, he crawled round the corner of the building away from the main street and just hung there above the alley way for a minute.

Sometimes it seemed like he ought to spend all of his time being Spider-Man. He wondered unhappily if he could have prevented that carjacking somehow. Would he have sensed it from high above the city, if he hadn't decided to go to the theater to see MJ? Would he have gotten there in time? Intellectually, he knew there was no way he could thwart every crime in the city, but he often felt that he needed to be doing more than he was ... like fighting crime almost 24-7. Regardless, the conversation was a timely reminder – just the cold shot of reality that he needed to shock himself out of the infatuated daze he'd been in all night. He had no business pursuing MJ, even if she was the girl of his dreams.

End of Part IV

A/N: I finally have an idea of how to end this interminable fic. Only one more part, I think. I'll get it up as soon as I can. I just have to write it. Thanks for all the support!