Peter slid in through his window, his feet smoothly padding the floor. He tugged at his mask from the top, yanking it from his head in frustration. He shut his eyes and leaned his neck back, letting out a breath.

What was he thinking? What had he expected? Had he really believed that Harry would just spill everything? What if he didn't even know anything and Peter's hunch that this was an old foe rather than a new one was completely off base? For all he knew, the risky visit he just went on was all for nothing.

The thoughts in his mind swirling around like a tornado of growing intensity, Peter discarded his costume, throwing on some more casual clothes in the hopes of settling in for the night. The swing back to his apartment had done absolutely nothing for him, so maybe an evening at home would. Of course, he made sure to grab his phone as he exited the room in case some mugger, thief or supervillain decided to cause an issue. He went down to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and pulling out some leftovers to reheat.

Once that was done, Peter plopped down on his tiny excuse for a sofa, turning on the TV in the hopes of finding something good on. He plowed through his leftovers, his accelerated metabolism not letting up for a second. He flipped through channel after channel, but he found nothing interesting to watch. It might help if he could afford more than the basic stations, but still, there just wasn't anything interesting. He contemplated throwing in a movie, but he felt unmotivated to get up.

Really, he felt unmotivated to do anything. His mind was still going crazy, his thoughts all over the place. His frustration was making him restless too as he realized he was tapping his leg repeatedly with his fingers. He forced himself to stop as he leaned his head back against the top of the couch, closing his eyes. He could still see Harry's face, his brain going back and forth between the one he'd seen earlier and the grotesque, nasty look of the Goblin.

Peter finally decided to just turn off the TV, getting up from the couch. He grabbed his keys and exited his apartment, figuring he would try and get some air on the roof. Sometimes just being up high in the city, whether as himself or as Spider-Man, was relaxing. The sounds of the city, as chaotic as they could be sometimes, had often proven to be surprisingly peaceful. Maybe it was just because he was used to it, maybe it was his enhanced senses allowing him to home in on certain sounds, or maybe it was just because it felt like home. In any case, this was Peter's last thought before he just went back out on patrol to try and distract himself.

Opening the door to the roof, Peter walked out calmly, soaking in the feeling of the night air. There was a cool but gentle breeze out tonight, and it felt nice against his skin. He walked until he was about six feet from the edge of the building, just standing there. He took a deep breath, letting in all the city had to offer: the good, the not-so-good, all of it. It was one crazy scent that for whatever reason just smelled RIGHT. He let out that breath, calmly releasing it all back out.

Peter had been up there for a while, his mind relaxing at least slightly, when he heard the door to the roof open again. Curious as to who was joining him, he peered back to find that it was none other than Mary Jane, wearing a casual green jacket and her hair in a ponytail. She stopped when their eyes met, seemingly contemplating what to do next. She then stepped out, letting the door close behind her as she walked up next to him. Surprisingly, she didn't say anything to him initially, only offering him a warm smile before staring out into the city.

For several moments, the two of them just stood there in silence before she spoke up first.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, "in its own NYC way." He turned and peered into her eyes, and there was a familiar look in them: a look of contemplation, of frustration, and of second guessing. It was a look he had seen in the mirror all too well. He hesitated about saying anything though; last time he had gotten the sense that something was bothering her, she had just said she was fine. She then turned to look at him too, causing him to jerk his head back into forward facing position, his face heating up a little in embarrassment at getting caught staring. Hopefully she didn't think he was a creep or something now.

"You okay?" M.J. asked him. He turned to her.

"What makes you ask that?" he replied. He hoped it didn't come out as defensive as it sounded to him; he just didn't know how much to share since the real answer involved Spider-Man related stuff.

"I don't know, you just...you don't seem quite like yourself," she said.

Did she even realize how familiar all this was sounding?

He wanted to say that he could say the same about her, but Peter thought better about it and kept the words to himself.

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright," he answered instead, "I just...I saw someone I used to know recently, someone I don't have the best history with, and there's...there's still a lot of issues there, a lot of bad feelings brought up."

"Mm," M.J. responded. "I know what you mean."

"You do?" Peter asked, turning to her.

"Yeah," she replied in a somewhat shaky tone after taking a breath. She seemed uncharacteristically nervous as she continued: "Someone I used to know just kind of showed up out of the blue recently too. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to handle the situation."

Peter only nodded, still unsure of what else to say on his situation.

"So, how's the job going?" M.J. asked.

"Oh," Peter responded, caught off guard by the change of subject, "it's going pretty well, I guess. Don't exactly think I'm going to win a Pulitzer any time soon, but it still pays the bills."

"Is that what you've always wanted to be?" M.J. asked, "a professional photographer? I would guess someone who works on staff at a place like the Bugle doesn't do so just because it's a hobby."

"I've always enjoyed it, for sure," Peter replied. "I was known as the kid with a camera always around his neck at school. I can remember one time during my senior year where this girl randomly asked me to take pictures of her boyfriend's car, as like, part of a gift or something. It was the weirdest thing."

Peter's story elicited multiple giggles and a bright smile from M.J.

"Anyway," Peter continued, "I started working at the Bugle just to help my aunt with the bills after my uncle died. I guess I figured using something I actually enjoyed doing would be a better way to make money than going somewhere I didn't like. Over time, I just kind of ended up taking a staff position naturally as I worked my way through graduate school, and I still enjoy it, but...I can't see myself doing it forever."

"Really?" M.J. asked, seemingly quite surprised. "What do you want to do then?"

"I'm not sure on the specifics," Peter answered, "but...I've always loved science. I love the study of how the world works, and I love how many ways there are to change the world for the better using that. I just want to find a way to use that and help people somehow in my own way, if that makes sense."

When he turned to look at M.J. again, she had a close-lipped but still wide smile.

"What?" Peter asked, not really sure why she was smiling so heavily.

M.J. shook her head lightly.

"Sometimes you just seem so noble that it's too good to be true," she said. "Holding the door for people, being apologetic for everything, wanting to change the world...I wish I could say my aspirations were as noble as you."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Liz and I started our business just because it was what we wanted to do," M.J. answered. "I was into fashion, she was into numbers and logistics, so it seemed like a perfect fit."

"I can still remember how in your element you seemed when Eddie and I first came to the store," Peter answered. "You just seemed so comfortable."

"I am," M.J. confirmed, "I just enjoy working with other women and helping them figure out what kind of casual wear they feel most comfortable in."

"That's sounds pretty noble to me," Peter said.

"How?" M.J. questioned, a curious and confused expression on her face.

"You're helping other people feel happier and more confident and comfortable with themselves," he replied. "That's something that everyone needs."

"True," M.J. said, "but it's not the same. You'll probably end up coming up with a cure for cancer or...I don't know, coming up with a way to make sure crops can never go bad or something."

"Uh huh," Peter said, "and when I get up on stage to accept my Nobel Prize for it, I will tell the world how my inspiration was a woman I lived next door from named Mary Jane Watson, who devoted her life to helping women feel better and more confident in themselves and help them reach a healthier emotional state."

"Stop that," M.J. said, fighting off laughter at his seemingly absurd idea, "I'm being serious."

"So am I," Peter responded.

They locked eyes with each other, and for a moment, Peter didn't realize where he was anymore. All he could focus on was her deep green eyes. He'd never realized how pretty they were before. More than that though, they just seemed so...alive. It was as if there was something stored away behind them that couldn't help but show itself anyway.

"You know, you should really figure out how you're going to change the world and get that Nobel Prize," she said, "because that speech is sounding better and better."

"I'll get on it," Peter said, "just as soon as I narrow it down."

"I don't know, I guess..." She struggled to think of the words. "I guess just try and figure out what part of science you like the best, look for what need you find yourself the most passionate about fixing, and just go for it."

"You make it sound so easy," Peter said.

"Maybe, maybe not," M.J. replied. "But something tells me you'll find a way, Tiger."

M.J. then turned and started walking back towards the door, leaving Peter to just shake his head and smile at himself.

"Wait," he said, calling out to her, "did you just call me 'Tiger'?"

"It's my new nickname for you," M.J. explained, spinning around so she was walking backwards. "Deal with it."

"Peter?"

Peter looked up to find Glory Grant standing in front of his desk.

"Mr. Robertson wants to see you in his office."

"Uh oh," Peter said, rising from his seat. "How did he look when he told you?"

"His face was pretty even, so it's fifty-fifty," she replied.

Peter let out a kind-of-fake-but-not-really-nervous breath as he rose from his chair at his desk, beginning the march to the Editor-In-Chief's office. When he arrived, he found Eddie was there as well. He made his way into the office just in time for his boss to look up from his desk.

"Oh, Peter, good," he said.

"Sir, whatever it is, we didn't do it," Eddie said, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. This elicited a couple chuckles from their boss.

"Listen, I know you two have been working hard on the story about these tech thefts," the man said as he rose from his seat. "I want you guys to take a break from that and cover a different story tomorrow. It might help you come back to this story with a better perspective."

"What did you have in mind, sir?" Peter asked.

"There's supposed to be some revolutionary new power source being delivered to the hospital," Robbie replied. "Supposedly it will help things run more efficiently, thus potentially saving lives. I figure covering a more humanitarian story might be refreshing for you two."

Peter had almost completely forgotten about his and May's conversation the other day about this power source that was coming. He'd looked into it later on to see that testing had gone smoother and faster than they'd previously expected, so it was likely to come sooner, which meant that a certain someone could be after it sooner...

"Peter?"

Peter looked up, realizing that his mind had wandered, causing him to miss something.

"I'm sorry," he said, moving his hand around near his head, "just have something on the mind, I guess."

"Mr. Robertson just pointed out that you have a connection to the hospital through your aunt," Eddie explained. "Maybe you could have her get a quote; maybe even some special access?"

"Yeah," Peter responded a bit hurriedly. "I'll see what I can do."

Hope you all are still enjoying it!

Continuing to pray for you all! Stay safe and healthy!

"Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless." Psalm 10:12