Peter fired another web, grabbing onto it and stretching his legs forward as he enjoyed the rush of the wind against his costume created by his descent. Since he'd woken up a bit too late today to manage getting to the Bugle on time via the bus, he'd opted for his own personal faster method. He didn't want to make a habit of swinging to work, because it would allow him to procrastinate just a little more. Plus, having to change so close to work always had the potential to cause complications.

Still, it just felt particularly nice out today. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, and the city just seemed particularly alive this morning for some reason. Everything just made it seemed like it was going to be a perfect day.

That is, until Peter's spider sense went off.

Releasing his web, Peter tucked his legs, performing a backflip through the air, narrowly avoiding a lunging attacker. His momentum carried him forward, and he eventually landed on the side of a nearby building. He looked up to see Scorpion, who had landed on the building adjacent to his.

"Seriously Gargan?" Peter quipped, "it's too early for this; it's not even nine o'clock yet!"

"It's always a good time to kill a spider," Gargan growled menacingly, raising his tail and blasting acid from it. Peter shifted to the side, noticing the acid melted clean through a section of the wall, revealing the bystanders inside. He needed to take this fight to the roof, should Gargan turn his sights on one of these individuals.

Peter turned and raced up the wall, leaping over the top, with Scorpion coming in hot right behind him. The green suited man landed just across from him, instantly going on the attack. Working to clear some degree of distance between them, Peter kept jumping back, looking for an opening.

"Mac, have I ever told you that you might be the most cliché villain I've ever faced?" Peter taunted as he jumped back, avoiding a sweeping attack by his opponent's long tail. "I mean, seriously, you don't even have any real goals or ambitions other than maybe to get rich and kill me, and NONE of your jokes land, like, ever."

The plan was working; Scorpion's attacks were getting a little more careless and sloppier as he got angrier. They were still lightning fast and undoubtedly powerful though, and they weren't giving Peter much of an opening to strike back with yet, so he kept biding his time, leading his enemy along from rooftop to rooftop.

Unfortunately, one of Scorpion's acid blasts connected with the line holding up the lift a construction worker was standing on at a building across the street. With a life on the line, Peter ignored his opponent, lunging forward and snagging the worker just as the rope tore completely and the lift descended towards the ground.

Scorpion hadn't forgotten about Peter, however, and despite his spider sense warning him of incoming, he couldn't move fast enough while holding the worker. This resulted in him getting pinned by Gargan, smashing his body against the building. His enemy gripped hard and fast against his arms, squeezing without remorse. Peter could feel the pressure threatening to snap the humerus bones in both is upper arms already.

Of course, all Gargan was doing was smiling, the sadistic monster clearly enjoying every second of this.

"Uh oh," the man said, his nastily gleeful tone of pseudo concern really starting to grate against Peter's nerves, "you better not let go. Can't have an innocent die on your watch now, can you?"

Indeed, Peter was struggling to maintain his grip on the construction worker as Scorpion squeezed his arms all the tighter. Any effort he attempted to free his other arm was useless, as it couldn't even budge against the vice-like grip holding it in place, putting a pressure against it that could crush concrete.

Again, Peter's eyes fell on Gargan's hideously maniacal grin. He couldn't let this monster win, so, with all the strength he could summon in his lower body, he shot his knee up, bringing it with devastating force straight into Scorpion's chin, hitting him so hard that he knocked out on of the man's teeth. His grip on Peter's arms was released completely as he began his descent towards the ground below.

Releasing his own grip against the side of the building, he came down to the ground as well, though he landed much more gracefully than Gargan, whose body crashed on top of a car below them. Setting the construction worker on his own two feet on the ground, Peter released the man from his grip.

"You alright?" he asked. The gentleman still seemed a bit shellshocked from the whole thing but managed to nod his head in response.

Spider sense.

With barely any time to properly react, Peter pushed the gentleman forward, out of the way of Scorpion's tail, which collided straight into his stomach and slammed him hard against the base of a building. Peter dropped to the ground, the blow having knocked the wind out of him and then some.

"That's your problem, Spider-Man," Scorpion said, coming over to him, "you care too much." The man then delivered a punch straight to Peter's already tender midsection before picking him up by the shoulder of his costume and tossing him several feet away, resulting in a rough tumble of a landing in the middle of the street.

Peter could hear Scorpion land nearby, maybe fifteen or twenty feet away from him. He fought to get up, but his ribs and midsection in general were screaming at him with even the feeblest attempts to do so.

"Still, I'm grateful, because today it means I get to finish you off once and for all," Scorpion boasted.

Forcing himself up just enough, Peter blasted Scorpion's feet with webbing, causing the man to stick in his tracks. He piled on the webbing as extra insurance, and soon, Peter's opponent was stuck to the concrete ground.

"That's funny, Mac," Peter said, finally managing to get into a standing position, "because you've had so, SO many chances over the years to do just that, and you know what? I'm still here."

Clearly agitated again, Scorpion blasted acid out of his tail, which Peter dodged just out of the way. He might have his opponent pinned for the moment, but that tail was still particularly dangerous to the people around them. He needed to finish this quickly, so he raced toward Gargan, ducking under a swing of the man's fist. Peter then burst up, connecting hard with the man's chin. Scorpion immediately swung at him again, but still failed to land a blow.

Peter kept up this routine for a short while. Keeping the fight so close was certainly risky, but it at least took the tail out of play, which was half the danger when facing Gargan. His spider sense continued to give him just enough anticipation of Scorpion's blows to get out of their way in time while landing devastating ones himself. Finally, Peter landed one final blow that cause the man to tumble to the ground in a heap.

"Alright Mac, who are you working for?" Peter asked, hoping he could get an answer out before the man faded out of consciousness, but it was no use. The flurry of punches and kicks he had landed had done their job a little too well, and soon Scorpion was out for the count. Even if it hadn't been that way, the man likely wouldn't have given him an answer anyway, but he figured it was worth a try.

At this point, police were coming onto the scene to get Scorpion back to the Vault.

"Thanks Spidey," the officer said. "We'll take it from here."

"Have at it," Peter said. He turned and took a step, almost doubling over as the pain in his midsection flared up again.

"You alright?" the officer asked.

"A okay," Peter replied, giving a thumbs up. That couldn't be further from the truth, as he was likely already swelling up across his stomach, and he was concerned that he might either be bleeding internally or have a cracked rib, potentially even both. He couldn't let the public see how bad he was hurting though; more importantly, he couldn't let word get out that Spider-Man was seriously injured. The last thing he needed was for criminals and super villains to try and take advantage of Spider-Man being injured and make his life a nightmare.

Forcing himself to stand straight up, Peter shot a web up into the sky, heading back for the first aid at his apartment. The trip back wasn't very pleasant, but he managed to steady himself upon landing, so that was a win. He got out the necessary first aid materials when something hit him: he was currently missing work. In the midst of everything, he'd completely disregarded that he was going to have to call Robbie and let him know he wouldn't be there. A very small part of him contemplated trying to still show up and come up with some excuse, since he'd have to do the latter one way or the other.

In the end, he decided to stick with staying home for the day, mainly because he wasn't sure how well he could fake being okay right now anyway, and the last thing he wanted was the attention of a bunch of reporters on him when his fight as Spider-Man was likely to be one of the day's top news stories. Besides, he wasn't sure he could take on someone like Scorpion again while in this condition, so he needed a good day or so for his body to do its thing.

Really, there was no way this scenario wasn't going to be a little suspicious, but what choice did he have?

Picking up the phone, Peter dialed his boss.

"Joe Robertson."

"Hey Mr. Robertson, it's Peter," he began, "I'm sorry for the late notice, but I had an emergency at my apartment that needed to be attended to, so I'm afraid I won't be in today."

It really wasn't his best work, but he dared not say anything about him either being hurt or even sick.

There was no response and no noise of any kind for a moment, but eventually, Robbie spoke up again.

"Alright. Just know you'll have to pick up a little of the slack again tomorrow."

Wow, seriously?

"Okay, awesome," Peter said, rubbing his hair in bewilderment. "Yes, I definitely will. Thank you for understanding sir. Have a good day."

The feeling of surprise was still fresh in his mind even after hanging up, but Peter had learned not to question his rare instances of good luck too greatly, so he moved back to his first aid, ready for the usual tedious process.

Mary Jane finally turned the TV off, tossing the remote onto the couch beside her. She let out a frustrated sigh as she contemplated what she should do to try and clear her head. Her father showing up had thrown her for more of a loop than she'd realized; she hadn't been able to focus on work during the first half of the day, which she would've thought would be the perfect distraction. Instead, it seemed like every little thing reminded her of him and that he was trying to get back in the picture.

The last straw had been when she saw a man come in with his girlfriend who was dressed exactly like how her father had been last night. She'd gotten through it and helped the woman out, but Liz had pulled her aside afterwards and told her to take the rest of the day off, saying she could handle it. M.J. had fought her on it, but her best friend stood her ground and she ended up conceding in the end. She'd been home ever since, trying to find anything she could to distract herself, but nothing in the two hours she'd been home had done anything to help her cause.

She'd thought she'd heard some noise occasionally coming from next door, so she contemplated seeing if Peter was home. It would certainly be better than her being alone with her own thoughts, so M.J. got up and headed towards the door, traversing the few steps it took to get next door. She raised her fist to knock, giving three gentle but firm taps with her knuckles.

There was no answer at first, and nothing but silence filled the area, making M.J. start to wonder if she'd been hearing things. She tried one more time, giving slightly harder knocks than before. This time, an answer came quickly as Peter opened the door, an expression of surprise on his face.

"Hey, M.J," he said in his usual pleasant tone. "What's going on? You need something?"

"Do I have to need something?" M.J. asked. She was a little more offended by the question than she expected, but she was hoping she kept that hidden in her tone.

"No, no not at all," Peter replied, clearly embarrassed at himself, "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you. Do you want to come in?"

"Yes," M.J. said, stepping in as Peter swung the door open wider. She took in the sights of the space around her, which was...not much. The apartment was largely empty, with minimal furniture except for a small couch in the living room and a small table near the kitchen space. Speaking of the kitchen, there was a bit of a mess going on in there with a mountain of dishes piled up on one side.

"Sorry," Peter apologized. "I know it's not much and a bit messy."

"No," M.J. said, embarrassed that Peter had caught on to some of the observations she was making. "It's nice and quaint, really."

"You can say you hate it," Peter said, "it won't hurt my feelings any."

"I mean, it could use some touches," M.J. said, allowing a little honesty to seep through. "But seriously, I do like it. It's peaceful."

"Yeah, I've never been one to need too much growing up," said Peter as he moved over to the living room and started picking up some stuff. "I guess that carried into adulthood."

M.J. slowly strolled into the living room as well, glancing down at Peter's small collection of DVDs next to his television, or at least what was out at the time.

"I see some you like the Rocky films," she said, eyeing them in particular. "Which one's your favorite?"

"Definitely the first one," Peter said as he continued cleaning up. "Hard to beat originals usually."

"I've always liked the third one," M.J. said.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Everyone knows the story of the underdog working to achieve his goal," she replied, "but I like how this movie shows how someone responds when they actually lose again after having success. I don't know, I guess that was always more interesting to me. Plus, I like the song they came up with for it: The Eye Of The Tiger."

"That is a classic, I'll give you that," Peter conceded as he went into the kitchen area. M.J. strolled in as well, and they both met at the table. For a moment, they locked eyes and said nothing before Peter spoke up.

"Do you, uh, wanna sit down?" he said, gesturing to the seats at the table.

"Sure," she said, pulling out the chair next to her and taking a seat. As Peter did the same, she noticed him wincing ever so slightly, sitting down just a little slowly.

"You alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said in a hurried voice.

"You just looked like you were having a little trouble," she persisted. "Did you hurt yourself recently?"

Peter didn't respond at first, and his expression suddenly turned into one of nervousness, or possibly embarrassment; maybe both.

"I just, uh, had a little accident earlier today," he said. "It's fine though, really."

"Accident?" M.J. said. "What did you do, fall down the stairs?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I did," he replied after a moment. "I fell down the stairs earlier, and now my whole body just feels a little sore."

The slightest bit of a laugh escaped M.J.'s mouth, prompting her to cover her lips with her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, recomposing herself. "I guess you should just take the elevator after all."

"I guess so," he replied. His eyes then narrowed as he glanced slightly downward. "What's that?"

M.J. followed his eyeline to see that her left wrist was just exposed enough to show the tattoo on it, so she turned it over to properly show the Spider-Man insignia in all its glory.

"Wow," Peter said, his expression looking more upbeat, but also curious. "I'm guessing you're a fan?"

"Yeah," M.J. replied, "I got this at first because it was just the thing to do at the time, but now...I don't know. There's a simple appeal to Spider-Man really. No matter what people say or do to or about him, he still goes out there and does his best to help those who need it, with no regard for himself. I guess having this just serves as a reminder to me that there's still good in the world, you know?"

"I think I do," Peter said.

"I've always wondered though: what is his life like behind the mask?" M.J. pondered.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Well, I've never actually encountered him in person," M.J. began, "but he doesn't strike me as the billionaire-who-spends-his-free-time-fighting-crime type. Really, he seems more like an every man, like one of the people. Does he have a family? Do those close to him even know who he is? Is he happy with what he does? If I ever met him, those are just a few of the many questions I would ask just out of personal curiosity."

Peter could only smile to himself at how much M.J. was hitting the nail on the head more than she realized. Everything she was saying was something like what he had either experienced or at least thought about. Still, it was cool to find out that his new neighbor friend had an interest in Spider-Man. Granted, everyone in New York did, but the fact that she expressed interest in the life behind the mask was refreshing in a way.

For a moment, Peter entertained the thought of what it would be like to tell her that she was actually sitting across from Spider-Man right now. What would M.J.'s reaction be? Would it be stunned silence or excitement? The idea was fun to ponder briefly, but he knew it was ridiculous to dwell on such an idea for too long.

If he could help it, he would never tell anyone else his secret ever again.

The two of them would eventually move on to other subjects and ended up talking for a few hours, just sitting and conversing with one another. It was helpful in taking Peter's mind off his injury, which he was always grateful for. Still, he couldn't help but feel that something was off about M.J. the whole time they talked, like something was subtly bothering her that she was trying to keep from coming to the surface. He debated asking her if anything was going on, but struggled to know if it was his place right now or not.

It wasn't until she got up to leave that he finally spoke up.

"Hey, M.J?"

She turned back to him.

"Are you okay?" he dared to ask.

"Of course," she said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you just don't quite seem like yourself for some reason," Peter answered.

"No, I'm good," she said, but her tone was short and clipped, lacking its usual pleasant nature. "Anyway, thanks for letting me stop by like this."

"Yeah, no problem," Peter answered, getting up to get the door for her, they exchanged goodbyes and after she stepped out, he closed the door, still wondering if something was up but trying not to concern himself with it too greatly.

If she had wanted to share, she would've.

As the door closed behind her, M.J. found herself frustrated. When Peter had first asked, there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, that wanted nothing more than to explain what was going on in her head right now. But, like always, she'd sidestepped the whole thing in favor of just keeping it all inside. Liz was about the only person on earth she'd had practice in such things with, and even that was still a regular struggle.

Bottom line, M.J. was going to need to figure out what to do about this whole situation, before she went absolutely nuts.

Hope you all are still enjoying it!

Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!

"Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless innocent of great transgression. May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:13-14