Peter's arms ached; he sat on the couch unmoving while his forearms itched uncontrollably. He smiled to himself. His gut felt like it was on fire. Maybe, just maybe he'd live long enough to heal.
"Peter?" said Aunt May from the kitchen. "Will you set the table?"
"You betcha," he said, gingerly levering himself off the couch and heading for the kitchen.
"No, silly, the dining room," Aunt May said.
"Oh, right," Peter said. "Now you're sure you're okay with four and not three for dinner?"
"Of course," she said. "I like meeting your friends, Peter."
He kissed her on the cheek and snagged placemats and plates, heading into the other room.
"I don't figure him for being late, but I gotta go pick up Gwen," he said.
"I thought her name was Stacy," Aunt May said.
"It is, Aunt May, her name is Gwen Stacy."
"Oh," Aunt May said, and she resumed mashing the potatoes. "Supper will be ready by the time you get back."
"You're the best," Peter said, and he wasted no time setting the table and scooting out the front door. His car loved the month of April; started right up and purred like a kitten. He parked in front of the Stacy residence and left the engine running as he took the stairs one at a time, something that felt alien to him.
He knocked on the door, and it was opened by an older gentleman with a worn face and white hair.
"Hello, you must be the elusive Peter Parker," he said in a gentle baritone voice. He smiled and stuck a pipe in his teeth absently as his eyes roved the young man. Peter nervously wondered if he had combed his hair.
"In the flesh," he said with a grin.
"Mm," the gentleman said, his eyes narrowing and a small smile curling his lips.
"Daddy," Gwen said from behind him, "he's not a criminal, quit. Hi Peter," she said, coming out from behind her father. Peter blinked.
Her hair was up and back in a twist. Her dress was very springtime; floral, all tight and loose in jus the right places, skirt below her knees but long enough to be almost naughty, backless. He absently noted her shoes matched perfectly, and happened to see the ankle bracelet. Woo. He smiled at her, just drinking her in for a moment.
Gwen's father chuckled, patted her on the shoulder, and headed into the interior of the house. Gwen tossed a fond and exasperated look back after him. "Come on, let's go," she said. "He's retired from the police force, he was a Captain and the best detective they ever had. When I get home he'll tell me all about you."
"Really," Peter said, suddenly nervous.
She shrugged. "Nothing personal. It's habit for him. And he's a bit protective of his little girl."
"That I can understand," Peter said, letting his eyes wander her again. "You are flat out gorgeous, you know that?"
"Let's just get to your house," she said, trying to restrain a smile that wouldn't be restrained.
xXx
"Ta daaaa," Peter said, swinging the door open and gesturing her in with one gallant sweep. Gwen walked in, glancing all around, uncertain.
"Aunt May, we're back," Peter called. She appeared out of the dining room, in her good dress.
"Hello," she said, "I'm May Parker."
"Aunt May, this is Gwen Stacy," Peter said, remembering his manners.
"Pleased to meet you," Aunt May said, a blush in her cheeks.
Gwen stood tightly holding her bag. "I've heard a lot about you," she said with a smile. "All of it good."
"Has our other guest arrived?" Peter asked.
"Not yet," Aunt May said. "I have a few last minute things." She smiled, and headed into the kitchen, leaving them alone together.
"Other guest?" Gwen asked, arching her eyebrow at Peter.
He shrugged, hands out. "I didn't want it to get too personal the first time out, so I invited another friend of mine. Is that okay? He's not going to help me take you home, pretty lady," Peter said, sweeping her into his arms and ignoring the stab of pain in his gut.
"Parker," she said, shaking her head with a smile, "You are a loon."
klud klud klud. Heavy blows hit the front door.
"Easy, easy," Peter said under his breath. He moved to the front door and opened it.
"Sergei, old pal, glad you could make it," he said to the hulking man on the doorstep. "You okay? That car accident must have been a doozy. Glad you're up and around."
"I am... up and around," Kravinoff said to him. One eye was swollen shut, he had scratches on his face, and great pain was written in his posture.
"I'm just glad they let you out of the hospital," Peter said. "I'd welcome you to my parlor, but... heh... nobody has a parlor anymore." They exchanged a tense look. "Come on in and have a seat before you fall over." He led the huge man into the dining room and helped him into his seat, ignoring the stare the big man gave him. "Okay, we're all here. Ah, Aunt May. Sergei Kravinoff, this is May Parker. May, this is Sergei. He's the one who was in that car accident that kept me busy yesterday."
"You poor thing," Aunt May said, worry creasing her forehead. "Was it one of those sport utility vehicles? I hear they're so dangerous!"
Sergei's thin nostrils flared, and he looked sideways at Peter. "Indeed, it was one of those American trucks." He shut his mouth in a thin line.
"Well, buddy, I hope you're hungry," Peter said with a grin. "We have roast beef, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, biscuits, gravy, corn, and for dessert cherry pie and ice cream. You have come to the right place for dinner."
"It seems so," Sergei muttered.
He was seated at the end of the table, opposite Aunt May. Peter and Gwen sat facing each other. Aunt May brought out the salad, and they got started.
"Isn't this great weather for April?" Peter said. Great, Parker, the weather. Genius.
"Bit windy for my tastes," Aunt May said.
"I like rain," Sergei said abruptly. "My place has skylights. I can watch the rain come down. It is very relaxing." He didn't take his eyes off Peter for more than a moment.
"I like the wind," Gwen said airily. "Great weather for flying." She smiled at Peter, and he just got lost in her dimples.
"Uh, so Mister Kravinoff, what do you do for a living?" asked Aunt May.
"I am a collector," he said. "Very boring."
"Yeah, and he's an amateur boxer, too," Peter grinned. "A little slow, but he's got some power if he can ever hit."
"Would that make you student of the ballet?" Kravinoff said, eyeing Peter.
"Oh, Peter was never a dancer," Aunt May said, "but when he was in elementary school—"
"No, come on," Peter said, "mercy!"
"When he was in elementary school," Aunt May continued primly, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "He was a spider in the school play, and he had a crush on the girl that played Miss Muffett."
"Amy Lobowski. Great story. So who do you figure for the playoffs this year?"
"A spider?" Gwen said. "How cute! Did they lower him from the ceiling?"
"Oh no, they would have, but he was afraid of heights, so they let him creep over the hill behind her," Aunt May said.
"Still afraid of heights?" Sergei asked pointedly.
"I got over it," Peter gritted.
"After supper," Aunt May said, "I have a picture of it if you want to see."
"Do I ever!" Gwen said with a giggle of delight. She threw a look at Peter, who groaned.
Aunt May had lots of pictures.
xXx
"Great supper, Aunt May," Peter said, pushing back from the table. "Now while you and Gwendy look over the Albums of Shame, Sergei and I are going to take a walk. Settles the digestion."
It was not much longer before the two men were limping down the sidewalk, getting out of sight of the house.
"Glad you came," Peter said with a suppressed smile.
"You offered most intriguing bait," Kravinoff said, removing the creased paper from his pocket. He cleared his throat. "'Sergei Kravinoff,' it begins, 'Please come to dinner at my house tomorrow night. The Spider Ghost.' What is your game, spider ghost?" growled the hunter.
"I figured supper was the least I could do to thank you," Peter said, looking straight ahead as he walked within arms reach of the big man. "Because of you, I was forced to come face to face with my life and with who and what I am."
The hunter waited. Peter lowered his head.
"I am more than a beast, Kravinoff. I am a man. For you to kill the spider ghost, you have to kill the man who shares a body with it. A human life is bound up in your quarry. I don't have the mouth to go on about this all day." He stopped and faced Kravinoff.
"Animals may have camouflage, and suspicion, but they cannot doubt. When you came hunting me, I doubted, Kravinoff. I doubted whether I was truly human or not. In wondering about that, I realized only a human could ponder that question. One thing more," he said, opening his coat. He reached in and pulled out a long serrated survival knife, still bearing traces of blood.
"An animal cannot sacrifice itself for an intangible ideal," Peter said. "If after eating with my aunt, meeting the woman that loves me, and seeing where I live you still think you need to harvest the spider ghost, even at that cost, then do it. I will not stop you. I will not kill you, and I'm through playing tag. This is your chance." Peter handed him the knife.
The hunter slowly reached out and took the knife, then glanced around. No one was nearby, no one would see, and behind him were bushes that could hide the act. He warily sifted through, looking for the trap.
His face hardened, and he put the knife away in his belt, out of sight. A smile toyed with the corner of his brutalized mouth.
"You surprise me again, Peter Parker," he said. "I don't know what to say. You make a compelling case, well done, and you have courage I cannot deny." He sighed and shook his head. "You have outdone me. The spider ghost has found cover I cannot bring myself to breach."
Peter let out a breath, and noticed he was trembling. "Thank you," he said. "But after all your effort, I don't think you should leave without a trophy." He reached into his coat, and so did the hunter.
"Easy," he said. "Relax." He pulled a small bundle from his coat, and tugged the string off.
"You succeeded in your hunt, Kravinoff," Peter said. "You made me come face to face with what I could be, and you made me choose my path. I didn't like it, but you sure did give me inspiration. Because of you, I will not let what you feared happen to me." Peter gave a tug, and the bundle unreeled.
"A silk tie?" Kravinoff said, his voice amused.
"I made it for you myself," Peter said, his voice serious. He smiled. "You earned this one, pal."
Sergei Kravinoff took the tie, and looked deep into Peter Parker's eyes. Then he shook his head and chuckled.
"You are full of surprises, spider ghost," he said. He held his tie up to the light. "Fine work, this."
"Oh, one other thing," Peter said.
"Yes?"
"If I ever become the menace you thought I was?" Peter said, his voice grave. "Finish the hunt."
Sergei offered his hand, and Peter took it. Left to left, of course; neither got much use out of their right hands. They looked into each other's eyes once more, then the hunter spun on his heel and strode down the sidewalk without looking back.
Peter smiled, breathed deep, and noticed how wonderful the spring air suddenly smelled.
xXx
"Oh, Peter, you're just in time for junior high!" Gwen called as he came back inside.
"Oh God," Peter muttered. "Don't go through them all at once, save some for later," he called back. "Besides, I should take you home."
"Thanks, Aunt May," Gwen said as she gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you around!"
"Goodbye!" Aunt May said.
"I'll be back later; you know, later," Peter grinned as he helped Gwen into her coat. "Bye!"
They headed down the steps toward the car. "Come on, slowpoke!" Gwen said. "Usually I can't keep up with you."
"I'm a tired, worn out man," Peter said.
"Too tired for a movie, hot shot photographer?" she said.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well," she said, batting her eyes, "I rented Creature from the Black Lagoon. A little birdie told me it was your favorite."
"I'll bet," Peter muttered. "You like those old Universal monster movies?"
"Of course," Gwen said as they approached the car. "The hero always beats the monster against all odds then ends up with the girl. What's not to like?"
"Yeah," Peter muttered, thinking of Strange. "I guess the monster always loses."
"At least in the good movies," Gwen sniffed. "And a lady has to like a movie where she gets the hero of the piece."
"Is that so?" Peter said, unlocking the car.
"That's so," she said, wrapping her arms around him and looking him in the eye.
"Looks like you caught me," Peter said.
"Damn straight, man o' mine," she said, her voice low.
Their kiss was gentle, which was just fine with Peter Parker. They disengaged, and he grinned.
"I chased you and chased you and chased you until you caught me, is that it?" he said.
"Something like that," she said, looking positively elfin as she grinned in the moonlight.
Peter couldn't help but laugh.