Chapter 11: Of Redheads and Psychos
"It's the weekend!" Madison bounced over to Peter's desk at the end of the workday on Friday.
Peter glanced up, slightly annoyed. "Glad you're so perky."
She rewarded him with a cheek smile. "Glad you're so not. If you were, it would disrupt the natural order of our bickering, and if that happened, the world as we know it could come crashing down around us." Still smiling openly, she bounced back to her desk.
Peter frowned. That girl was getting weirder every day. Sighing deeply, he pushed his stack of papers away and rose to follow her.
"This weekend is not going to be full of relaxation, though," he reminded Madison as he trailed after her. "We have that column due and more pictures to take, and after that," he coughed delicately. "We still have to figure out what we're going to do about our friend."
Madison glanced suspiciously around with a fake, sarcastic watchfulness and winked at him. "Right . . . that. Well," she straightened and rubbed her hands together, her face thoughtful. "Why don't we work on that report tonight? We could swing by this cozy little rat infested diner I know of and work out all of the kinks." Sensing a possible turndown, she quickly added, "the faster we get that done, the more time we have to work on our other little psychotic problem."
Peter sighed in resignation and reached for his coat. "Sure, why not. Where are we going?"
Madison grinned viscously at him. "It's a surprise."
As always, Peter rolled his eyes toward heaven and asked a silent 'Why me' before resolutely following his high-strung companion, who was marching out of the building as if she owned it and even saluting to several of the office workers. He trailed after her for several steps before jogging to catch up, and they set off at a quick, measured pace with little conversation. In Peter's case, this was because he still didn't know what to make of Madison. In Madison's case, she was just lost in thought, looking around at the teeming masses and wondering what the world would look like if run by machines, a la 'The Matrix.' After several minutes and several attempts at conversation on Peter's part, they reached the diner.
Peter glanced up in mid thought at Madison's airy statement of "we're here." His face paled noticeably as he stared at the flickering letters that made up the name 'Moondance Diner.'
"Great little place, isn't it?" Madison said admiringly. "I mean, there are so many rats and perverts in there that it makes everything else look like the pillar of society."
Peter nearly choked. The reasonable part of his brain was telling him that there was no way MJ still worked there. He hadn't seen her for awhile, but he had been told that she had landed an acting job, so there was no way . . . He swallowed hard. Still . . .
"I'm not going in there," he stated flatly.
Madison turned her head, one eyebrow arched. "And why not? Long lost love in there or something?" She asked shrewdly.
Sometimes that girl was so perceptive it made him sick. "Or something," he answered evasively.
"Oh, well now we have to go in," she smiled. "I just have to see what's in there that could possible flap the unflappable Peter Parker."
"No Mad, I'm not going in there."
"You know that you're going to give in and go anyway, so why go through all of this?"
He stood there staunchly.
Madison's lower lip began to tremble. "But Peeeteerrr," she whined loudly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "Why can't you just do this once, for me?"
People began to stop and stare, but Peter stood his ground, his face impassive. Madison, on the other hand, was in her element as she began to bawl openly.
"Please, honey baby, you know how much this means to me." Her voice rose in pitch, a nasal, whiny sound that was in no way Madison Avenue's voice. She flung herself at him, or rather, at his knees, nearly knocking him over. "I know we've been through tough times, but honest, I'll forget all of that! I can endure all the beating and the blows to the head, if you'll just say you love me!" She paused to blow her nose in his pants.
That was the last straw. "Fine," he muttered to her. "I'll go in. Now stand up," he glanced around at the muttering crowd that had gathered around them.
"Good." Madison stood up, her face dry and calm. "Shall we?"
Faces impassive, they crossed the street. Madison didn't even speak to him until they were in the dilapidated building and seated in a garishly painted red booth.
Madison looked at him earnestly. "You know Peter, I'm not trying to hurt you or torture you," her voice dripped with sincerity. "I just believe that if you have unresolved issues you should confront them. You never know when those damn unresolved issues will come back to haunt you."
Peter wasn't even listening. He just stared at his menu, drilling the thought over and over into his head that she wasn't here, she couldn't be here, she wasn't . . .
"Peter! Oh my God, is that you?"
He groaned softly. She was here.
Forcing his face into a smile, Peter looked up at the bubbly redhead standing by the booth and forced himself to say something intelligent.
"MJ. Hi."
She grinned widely, forcing the still painful memories out of her head. "I just got off work. Bet you didn't expect to see me here, huh?"
"Um," he gulped nervously. "Uh, no, no I didn't. I had heard you got an acting job."
"Yeah, isn't it great? But it's just a bit part and doesn't pay the bills. Besides, the place just got a new owner, so it's much better now."
Madison, who had been pointedly ignoring them both until now, raised her head at that comment and frowned. "Damn," she muttered, bringing herself to Mary Jane's attention for the first time.
MJ frowned ever so slightly. "Hi," she said, trying to sound perky. "I don't believe we've met."
Madison glowered. "That's because we haven't," she muttered darkly before returning her gaze to the apparently fascinating menu.
Peter decided to speak up then, afraid that MJ was getting the wrong idea. "MJ, this is Madison Avenue. We're partners for the column we collaborate on."
Mary Jane looked visibly relieved. "I don't believe I've ever read your column."
So softly that only Peter could hear her, Madison muttered, "you mean you can actually read?"
Peter kicked her under the table. "Play nice," he hissed. Madison flashed him her infamous predatory grin and Peter knew that this was all a game to her, just some twisted little mind game that she felt like playing with his life. Though he hated to leave Mary Jane alone with her, he didn't have the stamina to watch Madison play head games at the moment. Excusing himself to the bathroom, he walked as quickly as he could away from the table that was making him increasingly claustrophobic and prayed Mary Jane passed whatever test Madison was intent on administering.
After he left there was silence at the table.
"Soo . . . " Mary Jane slid into Peter's vacated seat, obviously striving for some conversation. "Are you a photographer too?"
Madison raised her head to stare at Mary Jane with thinly veiled contempt. "I am not a photographer. I am a journalist- a job that actually requires a mind."
MJ grew slightly red at this, obviously angry for Peter's sake. Madison grinned internally. 'So there is something going on between the two of them,' she mused, smirking.
MJ took a deep breath and tried again. "Have you and Peter been friends long?"
This was almost too good to pass up. Voice dripping with disdain, Madison stared at MJ with raised eyebrows and said mockingly, "We are not friends. We are partners. Frankly, "and here Madison gave Mary Jane an appraising look. "I don't like the company he keeps."
Mary Jane gaped like a fish at this, apparently too angry to make out words. She stared at Madison, who was reclined, arms crossed, in the booth, trying to determine whether Mary Jane's face was the exact color of crimson or fuchsia. Finally, as Madison finally decided that it was more of a maroon, MJ found her voice again.
"You really are a bitch, aren't you?" she snarled in a very un-MJ like voice.
Madison, completely unexpectedly, threw back her head and laughed. So there was a mind inside that dyed red head. Too bad that would mean that Madison had lost that bet she had made with herself. Oh well, at least she wouldn't owe any money.
Smiling hugely, Madison turned to Mary Jane. "No, actually, I'm not."
Mary Jane stared.
"I just had to make sure that you weren't what you appeared to be- all sugar and spice and no brains to go with it. I'm glad that you're not. You'll be good for him."
Mary Jane still looked confused. "For who? Peter?"
Madison nodded and Mary Jane blushed unintentionally, still thrown off balance by the turn this conversation had taken. "Oh no, I'm not, I'll never be with Peter. He . . . " she paused painfully. "He turned me down."
Madison looked shocked, her inward beliefs about the source of Peter's well concealed misery confirmed. "But he's crazy about you," she insisted. Something inside of her hurt at this statement, but she shook it away quickly. "Trust me. I can read Peter Parker like a book."
Mary Jane smiled briefly, privately noticing that this journalist was just a little bit odd. "You're sure?" she asked tentatively.
Madison laughed. "MJ, I'm sure about everything. Except for my bets- I'm always losing them to myself."
Ok, make that a lot odd. But she was strangely pleasant. Looking at each other, they sank into a comfortable conversation and watched with amusement as Peter tentatively approached the table.
Peter's relief at their obviously relaxed state didn't last long. Madison slid from the booth, gathering her papers into a messy bundle as she stood.
"Well, I suppose I better let you two cats get reacquainted. Have fun."
Peter audibly gulped. He was going to be alone? With MJ? After what had happened between them?
Shit. Madison did have a way of messing his life up. He was just starting to babble for her to stay when MJ piped in.
"Oh no, I'm sure you guys have a lot of work to do. I should really be going. My shift got off half an hour ago, but I was waiting for Harry . . . " she laughed lightly. "Maybe I've been stood up."
Madison raised a quizzical eyebrow as Peter inwardly groaned. "Harry? As is Harry Osborne?"
"Yeah, you know him? We were friends in high school. He said he really needed to talk to me about something, but," she shrugged. "Guess it wasn't that important."
She moved out of the booth so that now all three of them were standing, and hesitated. "I hate to just leave though. If you see him at all, could you make my excuses?" She flashed her award winning smile. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."
Peter felt weak at the knees, but something just didn't feel right. Suddenly he knew that he didn't want MJ walking home alone.
"Let me walk you home," he offered abruptly, and Madison turned to glare accusingly at him, the column that brought them to the café in the first place still unworked on in her arms. "Mad, I'm sure you can work on that by yourself for a while right? I'll be back in 15," and he gave her an 'I'll explain everything later' look.
Madison glowered for a moment, then rolled her eyes dramatically and sighed. "Don't bother coming back. We can work on this later tonight while we work on the other problem." Madison always liked to stress obvious innuendo.
MJ was looking curiously at them, so he settled for throwing her a glare as she smirked at him. "Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
She plopped herself back into the booth and refused to look at him again. Peter stood there for a moment as she spread out her papers on the table, but left after an imperious "are you still here?" was thrown his way. The door tinkled softly behind him, and Madison was alone. Not the way she would have liked to be, but being alone was never bad.
Besides, being alone was at least better than being with that weirdo Harry.
"Madison?"
'Shit. Damn you irony, damn you!'
"Madison?"
She snapped out of her reverie and turned to face a blushing Harry Osborne.
"Hiya Harry," she bit out in her most sarcastic Peter imitation. As usual, he didn't seem to notice, and slid uninvited into her booth.
"What are you doing here?"
Madison stood and gathered her papers, guessing that she was destined not to get any work done today. "MJ sends her apologies."
He was taken aback. "What?"
"MJ. She had to leave. You should really try to be more punctual, Mr. Osborne." She started to walk out. She was not in the mood for banter today.
"Wait!" he hastily stood and followed her strides out of the door. "You know MJ?"
"Just met her."
"And she's not here," he stated the question in a seemingly angry tone of voice.
"She had to leave. What did you have to talk to her about?" Madison was curious as to why he seemed so pissed. He was half an hour late, after all.
They rounded the corner on to a side street, Madison unconsciously heading for her apartment, Harry trailing along, seemingly trying to think of an answer. Finally he shrugged.
"I just needed to talk to her, that's all."
He cast a sideways glance at Madison when she didn't respond, but her head was tilted to the ground as she studied the pavement. Inwardly he was panicking, how could he have lost track of the time? He needed MJ, she was the only one that would make it work.
Or maybe not . . . he forced himself to calm down and think clearly. Anyone would work, any innocent, but he was late already, and there was no one around.
His thoughts immediately turned the thin, seemingly fragile girl walking on his left and mentally smacked himself. Not Madison, he wouldn't put her in any danger.
But if he was careful, she wouldn't be in any danger. He would just need to make sure that she didn't get hurt.
Still deep in thought, Harry unconsciously reached into his pocket and clutched his hand around what he found there. He was running out of time, he had to do something soon.
But what if she was hurt? Madison turned and noticed him staring at her. Mouth sliding into a sideways smile, she looked him in the eye. "What?"
His hand came out of his pocket just as her spider sense went crazy.
"Mad, I'm really sorry about this," he said, his hand coming up behind her.
Now she was freaked. "Sorry about wh . . . "
Madison's unended sentence hung in the air when his hand came down and she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck, right before she crumpled forward into Harry's arms.
xxxx
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that that chapter deserves a review or two, no?
"It's the weekend!" Madison bounced over to Peter's desk at the end of the workday on Friday.
Peter glanced up, slightly annoyed. "Glad you're so perky."
She rewarded him with a cheek smile. "Glad you're so not. If you were, it would disrupt the natural order of our bickering, and if that happened, the world as we know it could come crashing down around us." Still smiling openly, she bounced back to her desk.
Peter frowned. That girl was getting weirder every day. Sighing deeply, he pushed his stack of papers away and rose to follow her.
"This weekend is not going to be full of relaxation, though," he reminded Madison as he trailed after her. "We have that column due and more pictures to take, and after that," he coughed delicately. "We still have to figure out what we're going to do about our friend."
Madison glanced suspiciously around with a fake, sarcastic watchfulness and winked at him. "Right . . . that. Well," she straightened and rubbed her hands together, her face thoughtful. "Why don't we work on that report tonight? We could swing by this cozy little rat infested diner I know of and work out all of the kinks." Sensing a possible turndown, she quickly added, "the faster we get that done, the more time we have to work on our other little psychotic problem."
Peter sighed in resignation and reached for his coat. "Sure, why not. Where are we going?"
Madison grinned viscously at him. "It's a surprise."
As always, Peter rolled his eyes toward heaven and asked a silent 'Why me' before resolutely following his high-strung companion, who was marching out of the building as if she owned it and even saluting to several of the office workers. He trailed after her for several steps before jogging to catch up, and they set off at a quick, measured pace with little conversation. In Peter's case, this was because he still didn't know what to make of Madison. In Madison's case, she was just lost in thought, looking around at the teeming masses and wondering what the world would look like if run by machines, a la 'The Matrix.' After several minutes and several attempts at conversation on Peter's part, they reached the diner.
Peter glanced up in mid thought at Madison's airy statement of "we're here." His face paled noticeably as he stared at the flickering letters that made up the name 'Moondance Diner.'
"Great little place, isn't it?" Madison said admiringly. "I mean, there are so many rats and perverts in there that it makes everything else look like the pillar of society."
Peter nearly choked. The reasonable part of his brain was telling him that there was no way MJ still worked there. He hadn't seen her for awhile, but he had been told that she had landed an acting job, so there was no way . . . He swallowed hard. Still . . .
"I'm not going in there," he stated flatly.
Madison turned her head, one eyebrow arched. "And why not? Long lost love in there or something?" She asked shrewdly.
Sometimes that girl was so perceptive it made him sick. "Or something," he answered evasively.
"Oh, well now we have to go in," she smiled. "I just have to see what's in there that could possible flap the unflappable Peter Parker."
"No Mad, I'm not going in there."
"You know that you're going to give in and go anyway, so why go through all of this?"
He stood there staunchly.
Madison's lower lip began to tremble. "But Peeeteerrr," she whined loudly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "Why can't you just do this once, for me?"
People began to stop and stare, but Peter stood his ground, his face impassive. Madison, on the other hand, was in her element as she began to bawl openly.
"Please, honey baby, you know how much this means to me." Her voice rose in pitch, a nasal, whiny sound that was in no way Madison Avenue's voice. She flung herself at him, or rather, at his knees, nearly knocking him over. "I know we've been through tough times, but honest, I'll forget all of that! I can endure all the beating and the blows to the head, if you'll just say you love me!" She paused to blow her nose in his pants.
That was the last straw. "Fine," he muttered to her. "I'll go in. Now stand up," he glanced around at the muttering crowd that had gathered around them.
"Good." Madison stood up, her face dry and calm. "Shall we?"
Faces impassive, they crossed the street. Madison didn't even speak to him until they were in the dilapidated building and seated in a garishly painted red booth.
Madison looked at him earnestly. "You know Peter, I'm not trying to hurt you or torture you," her voice dripped with sincerity. "I just believe that if you have unresolved issues you should confront them. You never know when those damn unresolved issues will come back to haunt you."
Peter wasn't even listening. He just stared at his menu, drilling the thought over and over into his head that she wasn't here, she couldn't be here, she wasn't . . .
"Peter! Oh my God, is that you?"
He groaned softly. She was here.
Forcing his face into a smile, Peter looked up at the bubbly redhead standing by the booth and forced himself to say something intelligent.
"MJ. Hi."
She grinned widely, forcing the still painful memories out of her head. "I just got off work. Bet you didn't expect to see me here, huh?"
"Um," he gulped nervously. "Uh, no, no I didn't. I had heard you got an acting job."
"Yeah, isn't it great? But it's just a bit part and doesn't pay the bills. Besides, the place just got a new owner, so it's much better now."
Madison, who had been pointedly ignoring them both until now, raised her head at that comment and frowned. "Damn," she muttered, bringing herself to Mary Jane's attention for the first time.
MJ frowned ever so slightly. "Hi," she said, trying to sound perky. "I don't believe we've met."
Madison glowered. "That's because we haven't," she muttered darkly before returning her gaze to the apparently fascinating menu.
Peter decided to speak up then, afraid that MJ was getting the wrong idea. "MJ, this is Madison Avenue. We're partners for the column we collaborate on."
Mary Jane looked visibly relieved. "I don't believe I've ever read your column."
So softly that only Peter could hear her, Madison muttered, "you mean you can actually read?"
Peter kicked her under the table. "Play nice," he hissed. Madison flashed him her infamous predatory grin and Peter knew that this was all a game to her, just some twisted little mind game that she felt like playing with his life. Though he hated to leave Mary Jane alone with her, he didn't have the stamina to watch Madison play head games at the moment. Excusing himself to the bathroom, he walked as quickly as he could away from the table that was making him increasingly claustrophobic and prayed Mary Jane passed whatever test Madison was intent on administering.
After he left there was silence at the table.
"Soo . . . " Mary Jane slid into Peter's vacated seat, obviously striving for some conversation. "Are you a photographer too?"
Madison raised her head to stare at Mary Jane with thinly veiled contempt. "I am not a photographer. I am a journalist- a job that actually requires a mind."
MJ grew slightly red at this, obviously angry for Peter's sake. Madison grinned internally. 'So there is something going on between the two of them,' she mused, smirking.
MJ took a deep breath and tried again. "Have you and Peter been friends long?"
This was almost too good to pass up. Voice dripping with disdain, Madison stared at MJ with raised eyebrows and said mockingly, "We are not friends. We are partners. Frankly, "and here Madison gave Mary Jane an appraising look. "I don't like the company he keeps."
Mary Jane gaped like a fish at this, apparently too angry to make out words. She stared at Madison, who was reclined, arms crossed, in the booth, trying to determine whether Mary Jane's face was the exact color of crimson or fuchsia. Finally, as Madison finally decided that it was more of a maroon, MJ found her voice again.
"You really are a bitch, aren't you?" she snarled in a very un-MJ like voice.
Madison, completely unexpectedly, threw back her head and laughed. So there was a mind inside that dyed red head. Too bad that would mean that Madison had lost that bet she had made with herself. Oh well, at least she wouldn't owe any money.
Smiling hugely, Madison turned to Mary Jane. "No, actually, I'm not."
Mary Jane stared.
"I just had to make sure that you weren't what you appeared to be- all sugar and spice and no brains to go with it. I'm glad that you're not. You'll be good for him."
Mary Jane still looked confused. "For who? Peter?"
Madison nodded and Mary Jane blushed unintentionally, still thrown off balance by the turn this conversation had taken. "Oh no, I'm not, I'll never be with Peter. He . . . " she paused painfully. "He turned me down."
Madison looked shocked, her inward beliefs about the source of Peter's well concealed misery confirmed. "But he's crazy about you," she insisted. Something inside of her hurt at this statement, but she shook it away quickly. "Trust me. I can read Peter Parker like a book."
Mary Jane smiled briefly, privately noticing that this journalist was just a little bit odd. "You're sure?" she asked tentatively.
Madison laughed. "MJ, I'm sure about everything. Except for my bets- I'm always losing them to myself."
Ok, make that a lot odd. But she was strangely pleasant. Looking at each other, they sank into a comfortable conversation and watched with amusement as Peter tentatively approached the table.
Peter's relief at their obviously relaxed state didn't last long. Madison slid from the booth, gathering her papers into a messy bundle as she stood.
"Well, I suppose I better let you two cats get reacquainted. Have fun."
Peter audibly gulped. He was going to be alone? With MJ? After what had happened between them?
Shit. Madison did have a way of messing his life up. He was just starting to babble for her to stay when MJ piped in.
"Oh no, I'm sure you guys have a lot of work to do. I should really be going. My shift got off half an hour ago, but I was waiting for Harry . . . " she laughed lightly. "Maybe I've been stood up."
Madison raised a quizzical eyebrow as Peter inwardly groaned. "Harry? As is Harry Osborne?"
"Yeah, you know him? We were friends in high school. He said he really needed to talk to me about something, but," she shrugged. "Guess it wasn't that important."
She moved out of the booth so that now all three of them were standing, and hesitated. "I hate to just leave though. If you see him at all, could you make my excuses?" She flashed her award winning smile. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."
Peter felt weak at the knees, but something just didn't feel right. Suddenly he knew that he didn't want MJ walking home alone.
"Let me walk you home," he offered abruptly, and Madison turned to glare accusingly at him, the column that brought them to the café in the first place still unworked on in her arms. "Mad, I'm sure you can work on that by yourself for a while right? I'll be back in 15," and he gave her an 'I'll explain everything later' look.
Madison glowered for a moment, then rolled her eyes dramatically and sighed. "Don't bother coming back. We can work on this later tonight while we work on the other problem." Madison always liked to stress obvious innuendo.
MJ was looking curiously at them, so he settled for throwing her a glare as she smirked at him. "Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
She plopped herself back into the booth and refused to look at him again. Peter stood there for a moment as she spread out her papers on the table, but left after an imperious "are you still here?" was thrown his way. The door tinkled softly behind him, and Madison was alone. Not the way she would have liked to be, but being alone was never bad.
Besides, being alone was at least better than being with that weirdo Harry.
"Madison?"
'Shit. Damn you irony, damn you!'
"Madison?"
She snapped out of her reverie and turned to face a blushing Harry Osborne.
"Hiya Harry," she bit out in her most sarcastic Peter imitation. As usual, he didn't seem to notice, and slid uninvited into her booth.
"What are you doing here?"
Madison stood and gathered her papers, guessing that she was destined not to get any work done today. "MJ sends her apologies."
He was taken aback. "What?"
"MJ. She had to leave. You should really try to be more punctual, Mr. Osborne." She started to walk out. She was not in the mood for banter today.
"Wait!" he hastily stood and followed her strides out of the door. "You know MJ?"
"Just met her."
"And she's not here," he stated the question in a seemingly angry tone of voice.
"She had to leave. What did you have to talk to her about?" Madison was curious as to why he seemed so pissed. He was half an hour late, after all.
They rounded the corner on to a side street, Madison unconsciously heading for her apartment, Harry trailing along, seemingly trying to think of an answer. Finally he shrugged.
"I just needed to talk to her, that's all."
He cast a sideways glance at Madison when she didn't respond, but her head was tilted to the ground as she studied the pavement. Inwardly he was panicking, how could he have lost track of the time? He needed MJ, she was the only one that would make it work.
Or maybe not . . . he forced himself to calm down and think clearly. Anyone would work, any innocent, but he was late already, and there was no one around.
His thoughts immediately turned the thin, seemingly fragile girl walking on his left and mentally smacked himself. Not Madison, he wouldn't put her in any danger.
But if he was careful, she wouldn't be in any danger. He would just need to make sure that she didn't get hurt.
Still deep in thought, Harry unconsciously reached into his pocket and clutched his hand around what he found there. He was running out of time, he had to do something soon.
But what if she was hurt? Madison turned and noticed him staring at her. Mouth sliding into a sideways smile, she looked him in the eye. "What?"
His hand came out of his pocket just as her spider sense went crazy.
"Mad, I'm really sorry about this," he said, his hand coming up behind her.
Now she was freaked. "Sorry about wh . . . "
Madison's unended sentence hung in the air when his hand came down and she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck, right before she crumpled forward into Harry's arms.
xxxx
Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that that chapter deserves a review or two, no?