Of The Twilight Hours
Sequel to 'Midnight is Meant to Be'
Disclaimer: I own none of Marvel/Stan Lee's creations, only the scenario and original characters in this story.
Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter, inspired me to write more and so here is the result. It's a kind of aftermath train of thought for each of our main characters, sets up for the coming events. Please let me know what you think!
As the darkness stained the sky with ink, waxy stars refusing to disappear into the void, as did Peter. Despite it being an abnormally early hour of the morning his eyes would not shut. Felecia lay next to him, slight whispers of her dreaming breath echoing inside his ears. By all means it should be him asleep, if the stereotype was to be believed, the stunning blonde having 'apologised' to him for a good hour and a half before she drifted into a coma. True the male body was filled with sleep hormones after being sated, but no amount of chemicals was going to peel away the sense of bewilderment brought on by what he had been witness to at Heaven's Gate.
The first thing that came to mind was 'That bastard! I'm gonna tear his head off!" But that was quickly taken from his mind by the wave of noxious self awareness, she's not mine to protect anymore…'. It was a horrible sight, knowing that the man MJ loved wasn't being faithful, whilst Mary Jane was probably off working hard at her play or just asleep, her defiantly not better half was in an high class nightclub with his mistress. The girl with black hair, thin and with a darkly oriental appearance, John Jameson seemed to have all the luck, as if beautiful girls flocked to him. It was at this point that Peter's ego enlightened him to the fact Felecia was hotter than John's mistress, and beyond o on a par with MJ. Still he didn't feel relaxed enough to sleep. As Spiderman Peter could have just beaten him into the floor, but even then he would have had to have done something very wrong. Despite all his power, this outrage was beyond his reach, a cheating scumbag was something he couldn't touch.
There was just something so wrong about the whole situation, about how John Jameson lived, and this really angered Peter. He was rich and famous, the entire country knew him as a hero, and for longer than he cared to remember he was the polar opposite of his father. But despite his womanising ways this never came to the fore, he was always portrayed as a kind and respectable guy, one whom was not a mincing child hungry paedophile behind a mask as his father had once put in one of his rants in his paper. To cut it short Peter was pissed, how did this cheating SOB get good press when all Spiderman got was slander and abuse? In a world ran by the media it was becoming apparent it wasn't what you did so much as who you knew. John could eat people and nobody would ever hear about it from the Daily Bugle, Spiderman stubs his toe and curses under his breath and he's accused of hurling profanity at the elderly.
Not only did the rest of the world believe that John Jameson was an upstanding American, Mary Jane did as well. There was nothing Peter could do about I either. He wanted to tell her, but how could he? The jealous guy comes and says her boyfriend is a cheat? She'd just laugh at his poor attempt to split them up and he would probably get a slap for his troubles to boot. More so he couldn't talk to her because h just couldn't, it was still awkward. He could probably handle the upsetting aspect of it, after all he was starting to regret not trying to remain her friend, but that would have been impossible at the time. There had to be a way of letting her know without Peter having to actually meet her face to face. Wait a second, Spiderman was a party without a prior history, Mary Jane wouldn't suspect him of ulterior motives, but it still held the problem of her believing it from anybody at all.
The heat from Felecia as well as his own underneath the quilt was roasting him alive, and so slowly and softly he slipped out of bed. Dragging some PJ pants on he floated silently to the window, leaning against the doorframe, supported by his shoulder he stared out across the city, its blank vision replying. Why did she have to meet him, a guy too perfect to be true, and so he wasn't. He was rich, handsome and famous, rich was attractive to most women, but to John it had turned him into a using, manipulative jackass. With great power came great responsibility, and John had shunned his responsibility as soon as he found out he could get away with it unnoticed, that alone was a crime, somebody so in the public's eye shouldn't be equally as far up his own arse. This train of thought wasn't really about him though, it was about her, it had always been about her.
Mary Jane had come flying straight back into his life with a bang, as if she had never left. It wasn't the same as before, now Peter wasn't angry at her, wasn't craving her presence, now he felt worry, pity almost. She had left Peter Parker, geek from next door for the big star, the hotshot NASA astronaut who could buy her anything she ever wanted, show her places she had only ever dreamed of. Peter had come to accept this now. He was out classed in almost every aspect, but nothing is perfect, and unfortunately for both halves of the torn childhood friendship John's flaw was commitment, if it stopped at that Peter didn't know, it could be the ripples of a big wave yet to hit him. If only she hadn't ran off with him, I could have kept her safe, I could… I could. Turning his head he gazed over at Felecia, her features warm and soft as she slept, an aura of fun still surrounding her, and with the extreme heat that had drove Peter to the window she had pushed the quilt down to her waist, defiantly the hottest woman he had ever known.
Looking back out at the city Peter saw every window, every light, the thousands of people within just the buildings he could see. He had sworn to protect these people, he had on many occasions almost given his life for them, and yet he was cursed whilst a cheating bastard like Jameson got praise. Not only that but the one woman he had always vowed to protect, the one girl who he could not let any harm come to, he was now powerless to protect, instead becoming the prophet of her heartache.
Mary Jane woke to the rough snort of her boyfriend, one who had snuck in long after she had fallen asleep. After getting through a couple of full scripts she had left it for the night and retired, vowing to wade back into the mountain of stapled A4 the next day. John seemingly didn't notice her leaving the bed, but upon her reaching the door on his side of the giant double bed he spoke, and her efforts to remain undetected had failed.
"Hey babe, where you goin?" he moaned, trying but failing to rouse himself from the bed, his body tired and spent.
"Oh, John, I didn't know you were awake. I'm just going to make some coffee, you want some?" She turned to look at him, and boy did he look rough, as if he'd been up all night.
"Yeah please. So what did you do last night? Survive without me?"
Mary Jane wasn't sure if he was joking or not, and the idea of dependence upon him made her sick, but not even John had an ego that big, she hoped.
"Yeah I managed, barely" She smirked, and he laughed slightly before yawning, "Another hard night with the boys?"
"Yeah, they really gave me a work out last night, I lost count of how many bars and clubs we hit"
Mary Jane was stood in a door frame, her curvaceous and full figure hidden by only a tight tank top and hip hugging sweat pants, She knew she looked good, damn she was just plain hot, and yet John had already rolled over and gone back to sleep. This man was beyond understanding at times. Walking into the kitchen she proceeded to feed beans into the machine as she tried to understand what had just happened. Again.
When she had first met John he was overly flirtatious and affectionate, she hadn't given into his blatant advances, and she had no intention of going all the way with him until she really knew him, but by the time she actually felt alright with the idea of having sex with him, he wasn't interested, and even before that she was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the idea. It would b the final nail in the coffin so to speak, the last thing needed to completely transform her from Mary Jane Watson into that 'John's girlfriend' person she was so afraid of becoming. What was strange was that they shared the same bed, the same flat, but other than the occasional hug and a kiss good night they were now just romantic friends, and in the early 20s that was slightly worrying.
She missed the way Peter used to look at her, the hidden glance out the corner of his eye, the awe in which he held her. She missed being able to use her model body to send his pulse racing, she needed to feel appreciated in that way, and not in a drunken fumble like most of the men in her life had attempted. Peter used to practically melt when she wore something tight fitting, a short skirt, anything that showed cleavage, she used to use it to her advantage when negotiating what film to see or which café to meet in, it made her feel sexy. Now she just felt like a worn old housewife, somebody to make coffee and provide casual meaningless conversation when the need arouse. John had also started to lose his athletic physique, not that it was all that he would have everybody believe it was in the first place. Paint shop could work wonders, but he had been out drinking and been to one too many barbeques in order to stay at his peak. During his lack of missions he had become lazy, now little less than a figurehead for NASA, an icon.
As the coffee machine at last began to spit black into her treasured batman mug Mary Jane looked over her shoulder at the dented pile of scripts, it couldn't take too long to find Peter's number in there, and with John asleep again she would make another attack on the pile. Out there was a scruffy geek with her name on, and she would be damned if she went under appreciated any longer, a down to earth girl with a body like hers should have guys begging her for attention, not having to fight in vain for some off her boyfriend. It was four hours until a rehearsal for 'Love will tear us apart', and that was a lot of script damage. It was opening night soon, but Mary Jane had another idea in her head. When she finally dumped John, when all her stuff was packed and she had found an apartment, she would finally do a photo shoot for Maxim. After her Emma Rose advertising they had been begging her, but it as in bad taste according to John's mother "having so many working class men salivating over your body'. It would be the ultimate act of defiance. MJ couldn't wait.
Hey look at that I didn't end with a cliffhanger! Shock Horror! Its only really an explanation of what both characters are thinking in the after math of the first day of events, after all most of this story so far has unfolded in one night. Please review; it cheered me up to know your enjoying this!