Chapter Six: Walking on Air

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"You are kidding me."

"Nope." MJ giggled.

"Oh man. What a rush. We were there, you know, but when everything started coming apart we, like, ran for cover." Marco ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't even see you fall, I just realized everyone was clapping and pointing when he carried you off—I can't believe that was you."

Marco and Shawnee had come over right after the fair, worried that MJ might have been on the balcony when it was attacked, and stayed for an impromptu party when they heard about her spectacular rescue. Now MJ was curled up in the one armchair in the apartment, with Marco stretched out on the floor at her feet drinking beer.

Janeen looked up from the couch, where she was sitting cross-legged and painting Shawnee's nails red and blue. "It's all over the news, they keep showing some guy's home video of you falling and getting caught." Janeen finished and put the caps back on the bottles. Shawnee started waving her hands back and forth.

Marco lay back on his elbows and kicked at MJ's foot. "So, go on! What happened? I mean, he swung off with you...and then what?" He widened his eyes and whispered theatrically, "Did he take you to his web?"

"Oh, come on," MJ blushed and rolled her eyes. "He just dropped me off on top of the Rockefeller Center building."

"Where that garden is?" Shawnee raised her eyebrows. "Romantic." MJ blushed again but managed not to get defensive over Shawnee's teasing.

Wandering over to the stereo, Janeen started shuffling through their CD's. "I think it's just fantastic. You got to meet him." She said wistfully, concentrating a little too carefully on switching the music.

MJ's jaw dropped. Janeen's got a crush on him. Shawnee interrupted her thoughts, frowning and still absently waving her hands. "You were close, right? So, did you get any idea how he does it?"

"Does what?"

"The whole thing. The webs—I saw him running across a wall, totally horizontal," Shawnee gestured with her wet nails. "Does he have, you know, things on his wrists? Some kind of web-shooter? Was he sticky?" Marco snorted beer through his nose and MJ burst out laughing.

"I don't know," she said when she could. "I mean, I don't think—he, um, well, the costume just felt like spandex"—Marco rolled over laughing, holding his stomach—"shut up, Marco. There wasn't, ah, I mean I don't think he had any kind of—" MJ blushed once more and gave up on being subtle. "He didn't have anything under the costume, as far as I could tell."

Janeen scowled at Marco, who was gasping in air, and sat back down on the couch next to Shawnee. "What do you think? Is he—there's all kinds of stories, you know. Like he's a military experiment that escaped, or one of those mutants, or some kind of alien." She picked at a hole in the upholstery.

Marco sat up and wiped his eyes. "Shawnee just wants to know how he does it so she can stage a spider-fight and write a play about him."

"All I know is, he's incredible," MJ said firmly. She didn't want to continue this conversation. The magic of those few moments with Spider-Man was still bubbling through her, giving her the feeling she was lighter than air, and she was afraid analyzing it would dull the wonder. "He's a hero," she added softly, smiling gently at Janeen, who smiled back.

Her phone rang, and Marco reached over to turn the volume down on the stereo while MJ scrambled to get it. "Hello?"

"MJ, hi."

"Oh, hi, Harry," Mary Jane grimaced and pushed her hair back nervously. She'd meant to call Harry, see if he was alright, and she'd completely forgotten. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, just a bump, it barely hurts—I got checked over at the emergency room, but no one could tell me what happened to you after you fell—Are you hurt? MJ, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, you could've been killed like Max—"

"Harry, calm down, I'm fine, I should've called you earlier, I guess I was just a little shaken up." That felt like a lie, but it was more true than MJ wanted to admit. Harry's call had immediately brought back the terrible events on the balcony, all those people dead in a heartbeat and a flash of light—she didn't want to think about that. She realized that her hands were trembling.

"I was knocked out cold, you know, I, um—I wish I could've helped you. It, I'm sorry you had to go through that," Harry went on. "It must be terrible—did that Spider-guy hurt you?"

"No, really, I'm fine. And Spider-Man saved my life. It was absolutely incredible." MJ was dimly aware that Harry was looking for reassurance, for her to tell him that he hadn't let her down. Somewhere in her subconscious, a vague wash of anger seeped through her mind. She'd almost died, and what she needed right now was someone strong enough to hold her and let her know everything was fine, not someone who fell apart emotionally in a crisis. Consciously, she felt immensely tired of Harry and wished the conversation could be over. She took a deep breath. "Spider-Man was incredible."

"Incredible? What do you mean, he's incredible?"

"I mean, he chased that thing away, caught me when I fell, and took me away from that horrible place," MJ laughed a little. "I think it'll be a long time before I go to a fair again." She looked down at her feet and drew her toe in circles over the carpet. "I'm just thinking about getting some ice cream and pigging out while I forget about it—hey, I know you've got to be upset too—"

"N-No."

"Look—"

"Alright, wait. Stay there, I'm going to come over," Harry said. MJ sighed. She didn't want Harry here, she just wanted to relax with her friends and try to sort out everything that had happened. She didn't need to deal with her boyfriend.

"You don't need to—"

"No, I'm going to come o—"

"No, Harry, please. Really, I just want to take a shower and get some sleep." MJ shoved her hair behind one ear and went on. "You know, really, I'm tired. Long day, right?"

"Alright, fine. Fine." Harry didn't sound particularly sympathetic. She looked over at the others, who were all openly eavesdropping. Rolling her eyes, she turned to face the wall as Harry said, "Will you call me in the morning? And, and...we'll go and have breakfast, and...um, I wanna buy you something."

Oh, please. "Harry, that's...why?"

"Because, I want to. It'll make you feel better." Like the pretty new dress her mom had bought her. Harry was trying, he wanted her to be OK. It wasn't his fault she didn't want to see him.

"I'll call you when I get up, and we can go to breakfast," she said, trying to sound like she was looking forward to it.

"OK. And, and...what do you mean, incredible?"

"Come on, Harry, he saved my life, he's incredible, OK? Let it go, I'm tired, I just want to go to bed. Good night."

"Alright. I'm sorry. Sleep tight," MJ hung the phone up, hearing Harry's voice just as she dropped the receiver on the cradle. Oops, was he still talking? She cringed guiltily. Nothing I can do about it now.

She threw herself back into her chair and glared around at her friends. "You know, I bet Harry doesn't have friends that listen in on private conversations," she mock growled.

"Come on, Shawnee, we'd better go. MJ's really, really tired," Marco answered.

"Yep. Party over," Shawnee sniffed sadly. "She just wants to go to bed."

Mary Jane threw a pillow at Marco. "Don't make me feel worse, guys. What's wrong with me, when I don't even want my boyfriend to come give me sympathy?"

Marco snorted. "What's wrong with your boyfriend, that he isn't already over here? We didn't stop to ask, did we?" He looked at Shawnee for support.

"Nope." Shawnee looked thoughtfully at MJ. "Guess what it comes down to is, if you don't want him around, maybe you should let him know, not lead him on."

"I'm not leading him on," she snapped. "I like Harry a lot. I...look, I'm just—" MJ stopped. She was stung by Shawnee's accusation, and suddenly felt that she was genuinely really, really tired. Harry was a good person, cute, generous—not the bully Flash had always been. What was wrong with her that she kept treating him like this? She wiped at her face. "Look, not to ruin the party, but I do think it's been a long day," she said apologetically.

Standing up and stretching, Marco laughed. "It's OK, girlfriend, we're gone."

Shawnee gathered her purse, trying to keep her nails from smudging. Shrugging at MJ, she said, "Sorry, didn't mean to come down on you."

"No, don't worry about it," MJ stood up to hug her and walked both of them to the door, exchanging good-byes. Janeen was already checking the locks on the windows and throwing away empty bottles.

Climbing wearily into bed a few minutes later, MJ's mind was buzzing. The events of the day flashed by, her thoughts and impressions tumbling through her head. Trying to relax, she shoved aside her worries about Harry and her remembered fear from the balcony, deliberately concentrating on those few, wonderful moments in Spider-Man's arms. Slowly relaxing, she went over their brief, puzzling conversation, and began to daydream. What if he came back? What if she saw him again, and this time he stayed, drew closer...her imagination supplied several improbable fantasies. Smiling, she drifted off to sleep.

Norman Osborn couldn't sleep. His mind was buzzing, filled with strange images and thoughts. He tried to remember what had happened during the day—he'd gone to the Unity Fair, hadn't he? But he couldn't quite picture what had happened. Wait, right, he hadn't made it. He hadn't made it, and someone had bombed the OsCorp balcony. He hadn't been there. Of course. Board Members were dead, murdered—Harry had called, nearly hysterical. Norman rolled over, fighting the headache. It was all right, wasn't it? In the long run, it was a good thing...the merger couldn't go through now. On that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep.

He dreamed he was flying, soaring smoothly over Times Square. Everything was alright. He was powerful, unstoppable, hovering above people milling like ants along the street. He was...alone. He saw Harry, cowering on the balcony. Slow, sullen Harry, always left behind. The balcony exploded and he soared away from it, unconcerned. No one could match him, no one could catch him. Wait. There was one. A red-and-blue streak leaped through the air, confronted him.

Rolling restlessly in his sleep, Norman couldn't break free from the dream. He felt the impact of fists, astonishingly painful. This amazing creature rose up to defeat him just as total victory was within his grasp. He stared into an eerie, blank face. Suddenly, he reached out one hand, and his enemy took it, nodding as they turned together against the screaming ants. He saw the faces of people he knew, faces that crumpled and tore under their combined attack. Was it a nightmare or a vision?

When Norman woke up in the morning, he was sweaty and still tired. He didn't remember dreaming.

Mary Jane hung up the phone and vented with a short, frustrated scream.

"Another one, huh?" Janeen said sympathetically.

The day after the Unity Fair, MJ had given an interview to a journalist from the Big Apple News, which had published it under the huge headline "Spider-Man's Girl". The article had reported her words accurately enough, but had managed to imply that a story of sex and conspiracy was hidden behind the violent attacks—hinting at some secret connection between her, Spider-Man, and the green attacker, which was ludicrous.

It had also played up her relationship with Harry, slyly emphasizing her lack of money and her rich boyfriend. When she'd read the article, MJ had been horrified. The reporter had seemed so nice. She hadn't hesitated to talk to him, and it wasn't like he was from the Daily Bugle. But apparently every paper in New York was following the Bugle's lead and contributing to the smear campaign against Spider-Man. Now, her name was out there right alongside his, and since the paper had come out the phone hadn't stopped ringing.

MJ went back to ironing her uniform. "Yep, one more wacko. Told me I was two-timing, greedy, and dating a criminal freak. I didn't wait to hear what I deserved for my evil deeds."

Janeen paused to make a tick on the list they'd stuck to the refrigerator. "That makes...nineteen wackos, three jobs posing for so-called artistic pictures, seven jerks claiming to be Spider-Man and asking you out, and one offer of marriage. You sure you don't want to leave the phone off the hook?"

"Can't. I may not have much of a chance at that new play, but I don't want them calling and not getting me." Mary Jane shook the uniform out and stepped back into her room to change. "Besides," she called through the open door, "someone decent might hire me after all the publicity."

"Right."

"Hey, I can hope." MJ hopped out of her room, trying to put her shoe on and get to the hall closet at the same time. Straightening up, she grabbed her coat and purse and opened the outside door. "Look, I know it's a pain...but if you take messages while I'm gone, I'll buy dinner tonight, promise."

Janeen shrugged. "You should get a machine, then you could screen your calls. But sure, don't worry about it. You owe me Chinese." MJ waved and took off.

The diner was even worse. Enrique seemed to take her sudden fame as a personal insult, and kept making comments about "Spider girls who think they're too good to be on time for work". The other waitresses teased her, asking her for Spider-Man's phone number, or asking her how her love-life was going. Mary Jane worked on, remembering how much she needed her paycheck, and practiced acting like it was just a big joke, laughing along with the teasing and keeping a big smile on her face while she slapped the plates down and took orders.

After work, she picked up some take out Chinese and made her way wearily home, to collapse with her feet up and watch television with Janeen. The Unity Fair attack was still on the news, but no one seemed to have any idea where that green thing had come from, or who was behind it. Nearly everyone was calling it the 'Green Goblin' now, which didn't seem to be much progress in identifying it. Most of the reports named Spider-Man as one of the attackers, which made her want to scream with frustration. Didn't anyone appreciate what he'd done? MJ was ready to give up on the awful day and go to bed early, when the phone rang.

"Your turn, I've answered it enough," Janeen muttered from her nest of blankets on the couch. MJ sighed and grabbed the receiver.

"Ms. Watson?"

"Yes, speaking."

"This is Dan Creel from the Gilly Theater. You read for us earlier this week?"

"Yes, I did."

"We'd like you to come in for an audition tomorrow at nine. Can you make it?"

"Absolutely. I'll be there." Mary Jane stared at the receiver for a few minutes after her caller hung up, unable to believe it. Her first call back.

"Yes!" And I thought it was a bad day. Suddenly wide awake, MJ plunged into her room and began planning what she was going to wear. Then she sprinted back out to the living room, startling Janeen.

"Sorry. I've got to call everyone I know!" Janeen laughed and shut the TV off, and MJ started dialing.

A/N: Yes, it's another chapter. I'm hoping to get my writing on some kind of a schedule, and start getting things done faster. Will it actually happen, though, is the question. Thanks, as always, for your kind reviews. Hopefully you won't have to wait so long for the next chapter.