Chapter 2 [Coffee Bean—Half an Hour Later]

The subway ride, even though it lasted barely twenty blocks, proved an adventure. Due to there only being two seats left on the train (and being May Parker's nephew after all), he supported himself against the pole. Concern over Norman's mental state bothered him. Flashes lit the air in front of his eyes. Sweat dampened his forehead. "You both okay?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "That, Mr. P, is my question not yours." She placed her hand on his forehead. "Gosh! You're burning up! We should take you home not to the Coffee Bean. I'll call Betty at the Bugle. I'm sure Mr. Robertson will understand."

"He will. JJJ won't. He wants his money's worth for the Canada…trip." The train lurched slightly. His arm snaked harder around the pole. Fortunately, he managed to keep it from the girls. "Right now, I'd kill for a bowl of chili."

"Language, Tiger," MJ sassed. As with the others, Harry's issues and Norman's reaction troubled her. Conscience bugged her. If I'd been there for Harry, he might not have tripped on that stuff much less overdosed! She glanced toward Peter and then toward Gwen. But can you care like that?

"Well you're getting a good meal. Then we'll go to the Bugle. After that, the only date you're having is with a bed and pillow. You're sick, Peter." Purpose narrowed Gwen's eyes. As the train reached their stop, she guided him from the train. "Come on, MJ, good java and treats await my man!"

"Now that I can get behind!" MJ grinned. Caffeine and some chili definitely lessened Jack Frost's effect. She followed her friends up the stairs and toward the café.

Hunger growled in his stomach.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "That better not be what I think it is! Peter!"

He shrugged. "I rushed back for Harry." He staggered and raised his hand to stifle a loud cough.

"I wish you'd grabbed something and eaten on the flight. Well I'll get the door." Gwen held it for her friends. "Sorry. I don't want you spread this super flu or whatever you brought back from North of the Border. You know Dad would give you that look right now."

He nodded. A smile spread across his face. Yeah Captain Stacy would. He coughed. "Chili and…well…maybe half a sandwich." He fished through his pocket. His fingers brought out the last twenty to his name. "I can treat you…"

"MJ. Maybe get me some chicken noodle and a coffee?" Gwen requested. She snaked her hand under his arms. "Come on. Let's get to a table." She got him to the closest booth. "Are you sure you need to go there? I wish you'd go to bed."

"Gwendy, hey, I'm all right. Your smile does wonders, Kid." He met her eyes with his. Even if his spider strength kept him going, his heart pushed him the extra mile. He slowly raised his hand to caress her cheek.

"Sorry it's in short supply. I'm worried sick about you, Man-o-Mine." She squeezed his hand in hers. They'd had their ups and downs throughout their relationship. However their love had proven the lodestone. It had drawn them back no matter what.

"I'm tough. Don't worry about me," he reassured her. Yeah I just went five rounds with the Hulk. The Thing would be proud. He grabbed a tissue and sneezed into it. "Sorry."

"Bless you." She raised the eyebrow. "After the Bugle, you're coming to my place. I can take the couch and…."

"Gwen, if Aunt May found out…." He ground his teeth. "I don't want to put you out."

"If your Aunt May found out, she'd be lecturing you up and down about getting sick. Your health is more important than my comfort. I can survive a night on my couch. Sorry. I don't trust you to stay in bed." Gwen frowned. Her eyes told him she meant business.

As Spider-Man, Peter had faced a great many mundane and supernatural threats. He'd gone to other dimensions and even back in time. They all paled to the blonde fury with the green fire blazing in her eyes sitting across from him.

In a word, gulp.

"Yes, Mommy," he teased half-seriously.

MJ cleared her throat. "While we're redoing As the Bronx Burns, ol' MJ's just saved the day!" She put her best grin on. Her eyes sparkled. "Can't have my sidekicks moping, can I?" She set the tray down on the table. "I got the salad and coffee. Gwen, that's your chicken salad on wheat, chicken soup and coffee. And for you, Sick Boy, an extra big bowl of soup and a coffee. Let's just keep the sneezing to this zip code. Okay, Tiger?" She wiped the table off. "Sorry. You got some looks from the counter."

"Terrific." He sighed.

"Don't worry about it. Just eat up. Then we'll go," Gwen assured him. She shot a sharp glare toward the counter and the manager watching them.

Peter shook his head. Some days it just didn't pay to get out of bed….