A/N: Hello everyone! It's been a very very very long time, hasn't it? I've actually been active on Ao3 in the DDLC fandom and I've been updating the Peni and Noir drabbles there as well, but it's been a super long time since I updated this fic, or indeed any fic, here. Last year in summer I hit a bit of writer's block, and just as I came out of it I became ill. I was ill for most of the year, though thankfully it's now resolved. It took me all of December to really recover mentally, and so finally now, in January, I'm back to where I wanna be. I never lost love for this fandom, only my will and energy to write. But both of those are back now. I don't wanna set an update schedule cos history tells me I won't be able to keep my promises, but I have no intention of letting the updates for this slow down so much again. Whatever happens, I promise you I'll be doing my best!

Thank you so much for your patience and support 3 I hope you enjoy the update :)

Chapter 10: Grumpy Old Men

You fall off enough buildings, you're gonna get the urge to go swimming. It was one of those facts of life that Ham had learned in his thirty or so years on this earth. The first time your face hits concrete you buy muffins. The second time, a massage. Third time? Well there was only one cure for that.

And so with a hop and a skip he climbed the stairs of his Aunt May's house, up to his old room — not forgetting to give his aunt a kiss on the cheek of course.

"You seem happy," she smiled, "Good day at work?"

"You could say that."

He closed his door so quietly it didn't even click. Then, once he'd heard his aunt's footsteps creak down the stairs, he opened his bedroom closet and walked in. After a bit of pushing and shoving and a punch up with his best suit, he found the handle he was looking for. He gave it a good, strong twist, like he was arm wrestling it, then finally he was through.

"I really need to get the 'entry' door relocated sometime," he said, dusting himself off in the hallway of the interdimensional house. He always came here after work, but today he needed it more than ever. He looked around to see if his monochrome housemate was in, but Noir was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was asleep, maybe he was off kicking butt, but wherever he was, Ham had only one thing on his mind: the swimming pool.

He stripped off his suit, "Get that neuron water in me baby."

He was pretty sure it was called neuron water. Whatever it was, it was like pure relaxation. Intravenous. Once you were in that water there was no way to keep the happiness out. It was all giggles and sunshine whether you liked it or not. But Ham did like it. A lot. He liked the view too, even if it did make him seasick if he stared at it too long.

"How's it hanging, blue void?" he asked the undulating sky. Its ultramarine darkness washed back and forth like distant tides. He dipped a toe in the pool and immediately felt at ease.

"Oh baby," he sighed, "That's what I'm talking about."

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking, then he ducked his whole head under the water — just for a second. When he came up for air he felt tingly all over.

"Alright, I think it's time I took a swim."

Noir wasn't happy to see Ham in his undies, belly-up in the pool. He didn't enjoy seeing Ham spread his legs wide and wriggle about like a hyperactive angel. Some things weren't meant for human eyes to see.

He pulled on his mask and went downstairs. No one else but the two of them. He checked his watch: 7pm in his universe. Almost time to work. He'd say hi to Ham first.

"Evening," he said, sliding the glass door open, "Here for your usual?"

"You know me too well."

Noir sat on a chair off to the side, in the shade but with a view to the living room's warm light, "Just us today."

"Until B gets here."

"He drops by regularly too, huh."

"You've lived here a week and you haven't noticed?"

Noir hadn't noticed. He spent most of his time in Manhattan. Even when he came back, he still hadn't adjusted to actually living in a place so fancy.

He didn't tell Ham that. Instead he said, "Been busy."

Ham swum up to the edge of the pool, "You know what I did today?"

"Hit a guy with a mallet?"

"Well, that too! But the real news is I fell off three buildings! Three! Landed on my face every time, too. One of them was the Empire State."

"Ouch. A fall like that'd probably kill me."

"Yeah well it didn't exactly help my lumbago, I'll tell you that."

Noir chuckled, "I bet."

Ham looked at him quietly. Noir knew something was coming, but he held his tongue. Sure enough, after a minute of watching him Ham said, "You know, if you need any help in your universe—"

"No chance."

Ham huffed, "Noir."

"No."

"Alright," he swam away, "But there's no sense in running yourself ragged. Even heroes need a rest sometimes, you know?"

"I slept for eight hours."

Suddenly door to the pool yard slid open again, "Eight hours? That isn't sleep, that's just a long nap!"

Ham spat water in the air like a fountain, "B!"

B was carrying a white box in his arm, "Hey Ham. Noir. Say, you think Peni's got any of those airbeds round here? The floaty ones."

Noir hummed, "I know she has the ones that go on your arm."

"Right, but see I don't have a problem swimming. What I want is somewhere I can eat my donuts in peace."

Ham's eyes sparkled, "You brought donuts?"

"For me."

"There's no I in team, Peter."

"We're all Peters here, bacon bits."

"Okay, just for that, I'm gonna make a point of stealing two donuts rather than one."

"Hah, I'd like to see you try!"

Peter B Parker had always been a celebrity. Even back in his youth, before his fast food chain and the Christmas albums, he'd been front page news day after day — and most of the time he was the one that put himself there.

It takes finesse to paparazzi yourself. Even a man as flexible as B couldn't exactly get a clear view of his own ass. And I mean, he wasn't exactly as flexible as he used to be. But crooks always find a way of popping out of the woodwork, and when they do, Spider-Man is there. He had a regular thing going on with Doc Ock at the moment. It's funny, they swapped bodies once. It was a whole thing. Peter died, came back to life. Doc Ock was Spider-Man for a while, then he was a robot. Fun times. Now they met up once a week to duke it out in Central Park. Last week Ock came in a full mech suit, which he probably thought was very clever, and it would've been, had Peni not given B a full tour of her own mech.

The thing is, as fun as photography can be, he couldn't get those snapshots if he wasn't out being Spider-Man. And being Spider-Man? Well let's just say it was a lot easier when he was in his 20s.

Make no mistake, he still loved doing it. He loved the air whooshing against his mask, he loved the cheers from his (mostly) adoring fans. He even ran his own twiitter account. But being a hero is tiring as all hell. MJ knew it long before he did. Besides, he was settling down now, starting a family — in theory at least. That meant he needed to take better care of himself, both physically and mentally. So, on MJ's advice, he'd set up a little post-work routine for himself. A key part of that routine was his evening donuts. He always had space for dinner, because a spider always has space in their gut, if Miles taught him anything. It was a simple pleasure, but it made him happy, and it made the guy who sold him the donuts even happier. It was an important part of his routine. Just as important, maybe even more important, than his evening swim.

If Ham thought he could interrupt that, he had another thing coming.

"There are infinite donuts in the pantry!" B said, webbing the donut box to the side of the house, "These are my donuts!"

"The pantry donuts won't taste of your universe!"

"My what!? My universe doesn't have a taste!"

"Your palate just isn't refined enough to recognise it!"

Noir stood up with a sigh, "Want me to show you fellas where the donuts are?"

B and Ham froze in place. B looked to Ham. Ham looked to B. Then Ham said, "Or we could clone B's donuts."

Peter B shook his head, "Peni never said anything about a cloning machine."

"Gwen told me about it."

B blinked, "She did?"

"Yeah. I'm sure she did. Unless I'm imagining it. I'd text her, but she's probably busy doing schoolwork."

Noir was still standing there, "If it's the gizmo I think you're talking about, Peni left a manual just in case."

Ham clapped his hands together, "Attagirl! Gotta love Peni! That kiddo thinks of everything!"

Peter B smacked the cloning machine like a monkey smacking a rock. It was painful to watch.

"You're gonna break it!" Ham admonished.

"Am not!"

"Just look at that hand crafted—" Ham glanced at the name printed on the cloner's purple tubing, "Richards Technology whatchamacallit there. You think that was designed to be beaten up?"

B smirked, "I know Reed Richards. He ain't as smart as he thinks he is. If he designed this kooky thing then I know for a fact that I can figure it out just fine without his stupid manual."

"If you don't understand the diagrams you should just say."

"Who says I don't understand them?"

"I say! C'mon, B. Lemme help you."

B raised a hand, "No need. I got this. Trust me… when it comes to clones, I'm an expert."

"I can eat one of Peni's donuts."

"Oh no you don't! You aren't backing out now, not after we've come this far!"

"How long even has it been?"

"Too long. Now hand me that wrench."

Ham slid the wrench off the countertop and walked past Noir to where B was crouched over the coffee-machine-sized cloner. Noir was poring over the manual, humming to himself. Ham asked him, "Having fun there, big fella?"

"Big is relative."

"And relative to me, you're pretty darn big."

Noir turned the page, the manual's diagrams reflecting in his goggles, "That's true."

Ham figured he wasn't gonna get any more out of Noir, so he sat next to B instead, to keep watch.

"Remember when you thought the soda maker was an ice cream machine?"

B growled, "Not now."

"We just need to find the 'on' button."

"I've pushed the 'on' button already."

"Well, it didn't say 'on'."

"Green is 'on'. That's the way it works. It's just science."

"In your universe maybe."

B ignored him, "Once I've opened this up it'll all be obvious. Power source probably needs replacing. Can't see any wires anywhere, so whatever makes it work has to be inside it."

Ham stood up and stretched his stubby limbs, "Alright, well good luck with that. I think it's time I took another dip in the pool."

Ham was about to leave the pantry when Noir piped up, "Fellas, I think I've figured it out."

B groaned, "Noir, I know you're smart, but this is advanced future technology, just leave it to—"

Ham heard a click. He turned around and saw Noir twisting a tiny handle at the base of the device. Then he pushed the green button three times and said, "Safety precaution."

B was gobsmacked, "What…?"

"Safety precaution. It won't let ya just turn it on. You've gotta set the little dial all the way to the right first. Then you can use it."

It took five whole minutes for B to find his voice again. The first words he said after the long silence were, "God damn it!"

The next ones he said were, "Alright… who wants donuts?"