"Not a day too early," Peter muttered, his fists jammed into his pockets as he walked down the steps from the quad to the sidewalk by the street. "Gotta get Aunt May to Florida. There's snow in the wind."
Just then a gust of wind battered his windbreaker, coursing across him, and he tasted it; it tasted of flying. His eyes lost focus, his body temperature rose, as the wind woke him up and set his senses to tingling, he felt his fingertips flex, his blood speed up.
"I promised," he muttered. "No more exercising."
What, are you dead? Let's get out there and swing into this gorgeous stuff!
"Shut up, brain, or I'll stab you with a q tip," Peter muttered.
Ooh, threats.
"Whatcha thinkin about?" Mary Jane asked, standing at his elbow. He jumped, and glanced at her.
"You know, you're the only person who can sneak up on me all the time," he said. "Why is that?"
Maybe we want her to get a little closer.
"It's my radar absorbent plating," she said with an arched eyebrow that set Peter to tingling even more. "So what goes on in your head when you're just gazing off into space like that? I have a penny here somewhere," she said, digging in her coat pockets. "Here. A penny for your thoughts." She presented the dingy little coin.
"Now it's my turn to be insulted," he said. He looked back up at the wind. "I was thinking that if I was coming over that building I'd have to correct for wind, but a solid jump could carry me across five lanes in weather like this, the wind would be behind me. Makes my arms itch. The wind is calling me." He shook his head. "And I have a test in Calculus tomorrow."
"Wow," she said. "What a rush. Don't you ever resent all the noise, though? Do you ever wish you were a normal person, so you didn't have so much to hide?"
"Everybody does, I think," Peter said with a shrug. "Few people think they're normal. I just have a little more to keep under wraps than your average angst-ridden young adult, that's all." He grinned. "See, if I was a normal Joe, I would ignore the idea of being tugged away over the city by the wind, and convince the cute woman that's flirting with me to give me a ride home. Maybe we could grab dinner somewhere. Want to pick up Harry, make it a threesome?"
"Oh, I'm much too demure," Mary Jane said, pulling her scarf up to fashion a hood and batting her eyes. Peter blushed furiously as he gathered her meaning. She laughed at him. "Get in my car, you big lug."
They dropped down into the car, and headed off campus. "Harry's studying," she said, "as usual. When I drag him out of his hole, he's gloomy. Frankly, the 'grumpy guy' routine is losing amusement value fast. I'm shopping around," she said, keeping her tone light.
"You could take on Gwen for Flash," Peter said with a grin.
"You nuts?" Mary Jane said, throwing him a sideways look. "Gwen is dangerous when she's angry."
"Yes," Peter reflected, "Yes she is."
xXx
She groaned as the world began to slide back into focus. She moved to touch her head, and her arms jangled their chains. Blinking, she looked down.
She was laying on the board room table before Fisk. A ring was set into the table, and she was shackled. Her chains went through the ring. She couldn't get higher than a kneeling position, nor could she leave the table.
"Kinky," she noted. Then she realized her flesh was blue; her eyes must be pale, her hair straight dark crimson. With a thought, she changed her shape.
Nothing happened.
She stared at Fisk. "What did you do to me," she whispered.
"It's reversible," Fisk said with an almost imperceptible shrug. "I have some considerable talent on my team. This is Harlan Faber," he said, gesturing with one massive hand to a dumpy middle aged man with shocks of white hair. He peered over small wire rim spectacles, and his mouth was hidden behind a thick white moustache. He was dressed in black, and that lent him the impression of a country preacher.
"Faber can… take your powers away," Fisk continued. "They are still there, you just can't get to them anymore. I didn't want to take any chances with you. You have no business whining about it," he added, narrowing his eyes. "What did you expect, brazenly strolling into my territory?"
"What time is it?" she asked.
Ledge checked his watch. "Just after two in the afternoon," he said.
"You've got less than ten minutes to free me and return my powers," she said, low and nasty. "At two o'clock my backup team departed to rescue me. You can kill me and try to fend them off, but if you play it like that then you're stupid and you deserve what you get. You let me go and restore my powers, I make a phone call and that whole problem goes away. I still want to cut a deal, but if you don't work with me on my terms then we have no deal. If you wait until my people get here," she said with a hard smile, "you're a dead man."
"Let me whack her," Ledge said quickly.
"Wait," Fisk said, raising his hand. "Release her." Ledge clenched his jaw, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He tossed it at the woman on the table, who dexterously freed herself.
"Okay," she said, standing on the table and looking down at Fisk. "Undo whatever you did then we'll work out terms."
"What are you offering me?" Fisk said. "It might not be worth my effort."
"I've gotten close to Parker before and I can do it again. Without my camouflage," she said pointedly, "it's a little more difficult. I can copy those near and dear to him, and I'm ready to do it again. Faber's talent will also help me with my plan."
"Keep talking," Fisk rumbled, beginning to like her in spite of himself.
"No. That's all the plan we get before I'm restored," she said. "Plus, we're running out of time."
Fisk hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Very well. But for Faber's power to work, you must be unconscious."
"I got this," Ledge said, tugging a club out of his belt.
Faber gave him a dirty look and produced a syringe. The woman dropped off the table and presented her arm. A prick and a squeeze later, the room closed in and all was dark.
xXx
Mary Jane pulled up across the street from Peter's house. "Chez Parker, on your left," she said. "Here you go."
"Thanks for the ride," Peter said. He got out of the car and leaned over to talk to her. "Thanks for lunch, too. But I can't do this. Maybe we'd better… stay away from each other. I mean, I like you," he added quickly, "I really do, but I can't bring myself to ignore Harry's claim here. Please don't… you know… follow me around or ask me to go places with you. It isn't right. If you were dating me and I was going through a bad patch, I'd expect the same courtesy." His eyes were serious.
"Okay," she said lightly. "I'll leave you alone. Sorry for chasing you. Whatever," she said. "Shut my door, Parker," she added. He closed the car door, and she stomped on the gas, tugging the car out into traffic.
"Smooth, Parker," he muttered. He shrugged. "Maybe she'll be angry enough to leave me alone."
I can't believe how stupid you are. We could have gotten a big juicy piece of Mary Jane. And you tell her to go away. I can't believe we're stuck in here together.
"And you," Peter muttered. "Shut up, you."
xXx
The world slid slowly into focus, emerging from darkness. She sat up, rubbing her neck. "I hate that," she muttered, and her form shifted into the pale dark-haired woman once more.
"Why did you do that," Fisk asked abruptly. She looked over at him.
"Why don't you talk about your finances to the police?" she said. "There's a great deal of safety to be had in concealing your true nature and talents."
"I rather like your other form," Fisk persisted.
She looked him in the eye. "Life's full of little tragedies."
He smiled as his forehead creased with determination. "You might find me more tractable if you respect this small request."
Slowly, her flesh rippled and changed. A few seconds later she was once again midnight blue, her hair crimson and straight, her eyes pale and empty. Fisk smiled to himself. "Thank you," he said. Ledge walked up beside her and wordlessly offered her a phone.
She took it and punched in a number. Waited for the other end to pick up. "Code forty three," she said. "Yes." Then she punched the off button and tossed the phone back.
"Now that we're all friendly," she said, "let's get down to brass tacks."
"How old are you?" Fisk asked, studying her.
"It's not polite to ask a lady her age," she replied.
"In my position, it is not often necessary to be polite," he said.
"You would do well to consider this the exception that proves the rule," she said, narrowing her eyes. "What does it matter to you how old I am?"
"I was just wondering," he said, "whether you were some kind of fey, some fairy creature strayed into the waking world."
"I'm not," she said.
"How do you know?" he asked softly, his huge voice curling around her.
"The plan," she said deliberately, "is to lure Peter Parker into this by telling him I know how he got his power and that he's about to lose it. He'll be difficult. So I'll knock him out and Faber can seal off his power. Are you sure you can manage it?" she asked Faber.
He nodded.
"Right then. I'll tell him he needs a serum that only I can get through my contacts. I'll shoot him up. Your job here is to make sure the serum is damned addictive. I tell him it wears off in about a week, and if he wants to keep his powers he will have to weasel it out of one of your criminal empire's hard targets." She looked at Fisk.
He nodded. "Keep talking."
"At that point you have a choice. Turn him over to the police for breaking and entering, squeeze some robberies out of him by renting him his power, whatever. He'll be in your power, that's my point. And if he doesn't go to renew his serum, we take him in his sleep again and Faber wipes out his power for good, if he can manage it. You still win."
"If he tussles with the police," Fisk said slowly, "he'll be on the run and Peter Parker will be a name too hot to carry. In prison he'd be poked and prodded until they found his powers, a disaster for him. Or I could have him dealt with." He nodded. "A satisfactory plan. Faber, go with her. Do what she needs."
She smiled. "A pleasure doing business with you, Fisk."
"You have me at a disadvantage," he said. "What shall I call you?"
"Call me Mystique," she said, her form rippling back to the pale dark-haired woman. "I've earned it."
Then she walked out the way she came in, Faber in tow.
Ledge stepped forward as the door shut.
"She's going to double cross you and get Faber killed and that's a bad thing," Ledge said quickly.
"Of course she is," Fisk said. "She's going to try. But I would like very much to have her within my power as well."
Ledge gave Fisk a long look, then he shook his head and sighed. "Figures, a big tough guy like you would be a closet Smurfette fancier. Maybe we could dress her up in a little white toga, high heels and a hat. After all, she's a shapeshifter, she can give herself blonde curls…"
"For now," Fisk said as though he had not heard Ledge, "I'll have my people watch her. Watch how she deals with Parker. She wants something else out of this that she hasn't told us about. When we know what," he said, looking directly at Ledge, "then it will be time to move."
Ledge smiled.