Saturday, August 28 2004

Long before his key hit the lock, Peter Parker smelled bacon. And that made him smile.

He opened the door to see Mary Jane in a midriff-baring tee shirt that was too small for her, wearing athletic shorts, standing over the stove frying bacon. As he closed the door, he permitted himself a long moment for his eyes to wander the exposed expanse of her long, shapely legs and her slender and toned torso. She glanced over her shoulder with a wry grin, letting him take his time with it.

"Hi," he said. "I feel better already."

"Stakeout not all you had hoped?" she asked.

He sighed. "When is it ever," he muttered.

"Well now that you're back, Danger Butt, you finish up the bacon. I've got to go change."

"Change?" he said. "What is this 'change' you speak of? I command you to remain scantily clad!" He managed a grin.

"Injured or not, I knew you'd need some fat and protein, because you have this disgusting metabolism that wolfs down cheeseburgers by the fistful and stays trim and slim and sexy-looking. Without all the hard work I have to put into keeping this artwork avant guarde," she said, gesturing down at her own body. "But you can still be a little flighty on scheduling. Today is band practice, remember?"

"Great," Peter said, rolling his eyes. He took over bacon duties as hot grease crackled and spat on his arm. He ignored it, his tough flesh easily withstanding the sting. "I was up all night, I've got this situation—"

"Peter Parker," Mary Jane retorted, fists on hips, "I think this is just what you need. Get together with Tandy and Tyrone, blow off some steam. What, you want me to duct tape trash bags over the windows in the back room so you can get a big chair and camp out and brood about your troubles? Come on, Peter. You know this will be good for you." She raised an eyebrow.

He thought it over for a moment. "I think you're right," he admitted. "This might be good for me. And Natasha is working the place over right now, Logan is probably already with her. Just one detail," he sighed. "I really ought to, you know, sleep at some point."

Mary Jane just laughed.

xXx

Natasha tugged off her ball cap and shrugged the top half of her air conditioner repairman jumpsuit off, cooler in the tee shirt she wore beneath. She opened the back door to the unmarked van and climbed in.

"Well?" she asked as Logan peered at the screens that took up one side of the van.

"Placement worked," he shrugged. "Like you needed to ask."

She grinned, hopping out of the jumpsuit. She wore biker shorts and a tee shirt, and she settled in the sliding chair in front of the bank of screens.

"Home," she said, pointing to one strip of monitors. "There's the dojo, his car, and here are some microphones I slipped into his clothing. They'll dissolve in the wash. Somebody so much as sneezes around Hyabusa, I'll see it here. And these," she said, pointing to the other half of the monitors, "observe roof vectors around the dojo and his apartment. Motion detectors and variable frequency mass and thermal scans are scattered around, too. If anything tries to sneak up, I'll know."

"You scare me. Little bit," Logan grinned.

Natasha chuckled. "Okay," she said. "Here is Hyabusa. He's getting some coffee before he opens the shop. That's the same coffee shop the two cops in the unmarked have been using," she added, pointing at a screen with an old sedan that was parked across the street from the dojo.

"Looks like we're all set," Logan said. "Where the hell is Peter?"

"He was on guard all night. I gave him the day off," Natasha shrugged. She upped the air conditioning to a dull roar, as it was still hot enough to get sweaty in the cramped van full of electronics. "When I detect the approach of the hunter, you'll have to get in position."

"Then we'll see if this monster can feel regret," Logan muttered.

xXx

"God I need this," Tandy sighed as the garage door rolled up, equalizing the stuffy heat of the garage with the sun-baked heat of the driveway. Her hair was so blonde it was like spun gold, pale in the sunlight. Her slender strength was gentled with curves, and she was dressed simply. Her eyes were bright, but she seemed weary. "With Strange, Illyana, and Valeria all out of the office, it's been hell on wheels trying to keep everything under control. I'm about spent."

Peter glanced at the clock. Almost ten. He settled gingerly into the drum trap, and then whirled his drumsticks up into his hands. Tapped on a few drum heads, felt his senses stir and unfold over all the tensile strength of the striking surfaces. Something in him smiled.

"D-dd-dude, I know," said a thin black kid, gangly and grim. He ducked into his guitar strap. "M-my momma caught S-ss-Sid, my brother? With a j-joint," he added in disgust. "K-kk-kid is l-like, ten." He shook his head.

Peter glanced at Mary Jane as she intently tuned her bass guitar. She caught his eye and smiled at him.

"Maybe we should do the blues," Peter quipped. "We gonna make some music, or what?"

xXx

"Movement," Natasha said sharply, and her fingers clattered on the keyboard. "End of the block." She squinted at the screen.

"Let's get this party started," Logan growled, snatching up a ball cap.

"I'll be damned," Natasha said, and Logan watched over her shoulder. She pointed at the motion-detecting camera. Something that looked a lot like a silhouette of nothing wavered in the heat. "See there? That distortion? It's like a light shield or something. Refractive camo."

"Good thing we got access to Stark's surveillance gear," Logan grinned. "What's our hunter doin?"
"Looks like he's just watching. Just sitting there watching," Natasha replied. She scooped up a dart gun. "Okay. I'll clear the cops."

"I'm on my way," Logan muttered, and he ducked out of the van as he jammed a tac net microphone in his ear.

xXx

The instruments growled down to quiet. Tyrone and Mary Jane bent over the necks of their electric guitars to make the final adjustments. Peter touched at several drum heads as Tandy took a deep drink from her water bottle, then glanced down at her keyboard. Tyrone smacked the button to lower the garage door, it rumbled down to keep the noise in the garage as much as possible.

"So," Peter said, a bit edgy, "what's next on the docket? What are we going to play?"

"I've been working on several pieces I'd like to try out," Tandy said.

"Got something hard?" Peter asked, his senses locked into the drums, ready to go. "Something fast and metal?" He glanced at Tyrone, who perked up and grinned.

"H-hell yeah!" Tyrone said.

"Why do you want to do metal? Not your usual style," Tandy observed.

"Trust me, after the week I've had? I really want to hit something hard," Peter confided.

Tandy and Mary Jane exchanged a long-suffering look. "I can see which way the wind is blowing today," Tandy chuckled. "Tyrone, I'm guessing you might just have something ready that we could practice."

He was already digging in his backpack. "K-keeps me b-bb-busy when I'm w-wwaiting in the c-car," he said, and he produced a sheaf of photocopied music. "I c-ccall it 'Scythefall,' it k-kk-kicks," he said. He handed out the music.

"Okay," Peter said as he got the creased pages. He glanced it over. "Let's hit it."

xXx

Logan entered the dojo's antechamber, kicked off his shoes, bowed into the dojo. He stood off to the side, respectfully waiting. Hyabusa walked down the row as the class was paired off in three-strike sparring. He caught Logan's eye, and padded over to him.

Hyabusa wasn't particularly tall, but he was several inches taller than Logan. He frowned. "Something I can help you with?" he asked, his voice soft. He was whipcord thin, powerful, graceful. He knew his stuff, and Logan could sense that about him. Logan nodded solemnly.

"My friend saved your life in the alley. And he got killed on the roof next door," Logan said without preamble. "That hunter is watching us right now. So I'm gonna save your life by beating you, with the hunter watching. You're being targeted by this thing because you won the championship. The hunter must a seen it on tv or something."

"This is a ridiculously thin excuse," Hyabusa replied simply. "Most people just want to prove themselves against the best, but you've bothered to come up with a whole story for it. And I don't spar. I'm sorry. If you don't mind, I have a class to teach."

Logan's hand darted out, gripping the teacher's sleeve. Hyabusa resisted the impulse to fling him across the room, instead glaring into his eyes.

"Honest to God truth, too goofy ta make up," Logan said grimly. "You gonna make me fight your whole class too? Cause I'm not leavin until we sort this out."

"Do I have to call the police?" Hyabusa asked in an icy voice. "They are right across the street."

"Takin a nice nap at the moment," Logan nodded. "My associate took care a them."

"You're serious," Hyabusa breathed. He shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"I want ta save yer life," Logan said intently.

Hyabusa stared at him, then shook his head. "I'll beat you quickly," he said. "Then you can be on your way."

"Sounds fine," Logan grinned. He trotted out on the mat as the students cleared it, awed. Logan settled, his crooked hairy toes gripping the mat. He adjusted into stance, and Hyabusa rolled his head on his neck. They bowed and opened, then stood warily watching each other.

Hyabusa spun with a punch; Logan blocked it with a swift flick of his forearm, and snatched at Hyabusa's sleeve. The teacher ducked away from that, slinging a kick at Logan; Logan stamped at the mat, and the kick rebounded from his solid leg. Hyabusa twirled back to balance.

"You look surprised," Logan drawled. "Let's do this."

They fought.

xXx

The drums roared and rattled, Peter let the tension in his body ride itself out through the drum sticks as they spun and danced and whirled around him as though they were more alive than he was. His face was slick with sweat, his hair worled and plastered down, his shirt clinging to him like mesh.

Drawn from him, the spider ghost blended with the rhythm of Mary Jane's guitar, tucked under Tyrone's racing guitar riffs, curled through Tandy's chords. As the drum set became a part of him, the sensational half-aware spider ghost twisted into the rhythms. Peter felt a sense of isolation; through the noise, no conversation was possible. In the concentration of the music, there was no space for idle worry and daydreaming to swirl around him. He felt deliciously alone as he melded into the sound of the band, the spider ghost becoming a foundation that held everything together and propelled it forward.

His face was slack in the heat, in the sound. And he closed his eyes, pushing out tears, as something unbearably tight in his chest began to loosen. Salt water blended as tears and sweat flowed freely, and no one saw past the glittering drum set and the deafening noise to the young man who hid inside the fascination of rhythm.

xXx

Natasha's gaze twitched from the martial arts match in the dojo the view of the distortion on the rooftop. She bit her lip as she looked back at the monitor watching Logan and Hyabusa circle, then her mind was made up. She snatched a snub rifle, and ducked out of the van, the door slamming behind her as she jogged into an alley to circle around.

"You're not getting away clean this time," she muttered in Russian through clenched teeth. She sprang up to catch at the fire escape.

Across the street, Logan fired a kick at Hyabusa, who spun around it and smacked a double-palm strike into Logan's torso, unbalancing him.

"How are you still up?" Hyabusa growled.

Logan darted in with a punch, catching a glancing blow on Hyabusa's shoulder. As the slender man rolled with it, Logan stamped on his foot, startling him. Logan followed up with a shoulder check. Hyabusa toppled, startled out of his balance, and Logan dropped to a knee. Hyabusa squirmed his leg out of the way, and he twirled in a kip-up that smacked into Logan's shoulder. Hyabusa slung a powerful blow down into Logan, staggering him back and to his feet, then he spun into him and snatched at his wrist and lapel. With a grunt, the lighter man sent Logan whirling through the air to smack down on the mat.

Logan twisted up to his feet and settled into stance, smiling and not at all winded. Hyabusa stared at him for a moment, then frowned and twisted the ball of his foot for better leverage.

"Perhaps I was hasty," he said. "Show me what you've got."

Logan grinned, flexing. Then he charged.

xXx

Tandy sagged down on her forearms at the keyboard station. In the relative quiet after the set wrapped up, the amps hummed and fans did their best to push the sluggish air around. Drenched in sweat, the band exchanged glances. Tandy roused herself to drink deeply from a water bottle as Mary Jane clamped a damp towel on her face and Tyrone slumped on the stool, glancing out the window.

Peter's eyes were bright. "What else we working on?" he asked. "What's next?"

"Th-that's all I got for the r-reaper set," Tyrone said wearily.

"I had some light studies I wanted to try out," Tandy said. "You all game?"

"B-bring it on," Tyrone replied, and Peter smiled to himself.

As Tandy passed out the music, Mary Jane leaned on the button to open the garage door. Clattering and growling, the chained engine dragged the heavy door up. Outside, sunlight poured down as a hot breeze wandered into the garage and got lost.