Best friends are the worst.

Re-edited as of 10/11/14

Please read and review :D

Chapter Nine

Nolens Volens

"Amy? Earth to Amy! Are you there?"

I jolted, shaking my head and lifted away from the hand supporting my chin. Blinking rapidly, I looked around, having forgotten where I was. Who was talking to me? Who were all these people? What's with all the smells?

Oh. Right. The Silver Spoon.

Gwen was waving a hand in front of my face. "Hey, there you are, Space Cadet. Thought I lost you for a second. Is everything all right?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, shaking my head again and tucking a stray lock behind my ear. I tried to sound casual, like I totally hadn't gotten lost in my own thoughts again. "Sure, everything's cool. Why do you ask...?"

God, I sounded so awkward. Gwen just gave me the Look, clearly not convinced by my poor acting skills. Even a layman could spot an uninspired performance.

She said, "You've been really out of it lately. I mean, I know you're not the most talkative person but you could at least hold up your half of the conversation when we hang out. And I've seen that look on your face before. Something's bugging you."

Gwen's Look must have x-ray vision, because she could see right into my head. I looked down at the table, at my untouched coffee. I didn't like coffee, but I ordered it since that seemed to be what you'd do when you're at a cafe like the Silver Spoon. The caffeine gave me a buzz I didn't need, made my already super senses too sensitive and sent my radar on the fritz.

I pushed the mug away from me and replied, "It's no big deal. I've just had a lot on my mind. Homework, money, the usual, I guess. Aunt May wants me to move back into the house."

"It's not a bad idea," Gwen said, too nonchalant to be neutral on the idea. She gave me a significant look. "It might be nice to live with your family again. She probably thinks you're too young to live on your own. My dad thinks so, too."

"Aw, you told your dad?" I made a face, running a hand through my hair. Of course Gwen told her dad, the Chief of the freaking NYPD. If there was one guy who could enforce my current housing, it would be him. "Why'd you have to do that, Gwen? It's not exactly something I post on Facebook."

"I know, but it's not like he doesn't care or anything," Gwen replied, her brow furrowing. Maybe she felt guilty, but then again Gwen didn't hide too much from her dad. Or maybe he was just a really good interrogator and Gwen cracked under pressure, I didn't know. "And that neighborhood...it's kind of scary. A lot of crime in Hell's Kitchen.

"Yeah, I know," I said, tapping my fingers on the table and looking out the window, trying to find something to distract myself, to change the conversation. "But it doesn't bother me. Who's going to go out of their way to rob a tiny tenth-floor apartment?"

Gwen sighed, giving me a frustrated look. "That's not the point. I – and by that, I mean my dad – thinks that it's too dangerous for you to keep living there. And you don't even have a working phone if anything bad happens. As soon as you're gone, you might as well be dead to the world because no one can contact you."

"I can handle myself," I had to keep myself from snorting; otherwise Gwen might start to get ticked. She didn't like it when I didn't take these problems seriously. I'd seen Peter make enough mistakes to know not to do the same. "Trust me, I've been living there since I was born, I know what I'm doing."

"Doing what now?" said an entirely new voice.

We looked up at the red-haired girl who had suddenly appeared at the table, dressed in a hat and down coat. Mary Jane smiled at us, giving a little wave and saying, "You mind if I sit?"

"No, its fine," Gwen and I said at the same time. I sidled over, allowing Mary Jane to sit next to me. She seemed entirely oblivious to the conversation at hand. "Where'd you come from?"

"Oh, you know, just walking around, appreciating New York in all its gritty glory,"
Mary Jane just shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Trying to get away from all the drama of life."

Don't we all, I thought to myself, sitting back in my seat.

"Any particular drama you're trying to get away from?" Gwen asked.

"Oh, you know," Mary Jane sighed, twirling some red hair around her finger, looking rather glum. "The whole Liz/Flash thing."

"They're still together?" I asked, before taking a sip of my drink. The coffee sent a bitter taste on my tongue that almost made me recoil. "I thought Liz was with Peter or...something..."

"Yeah, I thought so too," Gwen added. I could tell from the look on her face that learning that the Liz/Peter thing may not be real had her relieved.

"Nope, they're still official." Mary Jane shrugged, making a face. "Which is too bad, I actually kind of liked him."

Gwen and I exchanged looks of alarm. I turned back to Mary Jane and asked, "You mean...Flash? You like Flash Thompson?"

I had hoped maybe Mary Jane had been referring to Peter, on the off chance I misunderstood her, but no. Of course not. Why go for geeky Parker when you can have über-macho Thompson? Mary Jane just smiled and said, "He's actually kind of sweet, once you get to know him."

"Well, you've clearly met an imposter, because 'sweet'" Gwen used air quotes here, "Is not the word I'd used to describe him."

"What do you mean?"

"He used to bully Peter!" Gwen exclaimed, apparently frustrated that this wasn't reason enough to hate Flash. Mary Jane had only started attending Midtown, so I wasn't nearly as surprised that she didn't know. "At least until he got that growth spurt."

"Well, people can change," Mary Jane said, looking somewhat concerned that the Flash she liked was also a jerk.

"Not people like him," Gwen muttered under her breath.

Mary Jane inhaled and I gripped the edge of the table in apprehension for the imminent fight, but she surprised me when she sighed, "I guess we'll see, then. Amy, you've been quiet, any drama in your life you want to vent about?"

"You don't want to hear the things I'd like to vent about," I said, chuckling to myself, half awkward and half wishing for the attention to go away. "Just take my word for it."

"Well, now you've intrigued me!" Mary Jane fixed me with a dazzling smile. I could see why Peter got so flustered around her. The way she looked at you made you feel like the most important person in the world. "I have to know – what is it? A boyfriend?"

I choked on the coffee I had swallowed when she said that. Gwen burst into laughter, either because my expression was funny or the idea of me having a boyfriend was ridiculous.

I shook my head, managing to keep the coffee down as I shot Gwen a look. "Uh, no, no boyfriend. No thank you."

"Really? I think you and that other guy, what's his name? He just got back from Europe - oh, right, Harry Osborn! You two would look cute together." Mary Jane said, nudging my side with an accompanying wink. "I mean, You're friends already."

"Well, yeah, but..." I said, trying to find the right words and not stutter. If I stuttered, then MJ would think I was lovestruck; because that's how the characters always acted in those Rom-Coms, when talking about the people they liked.

Not that I liked Harry. I mean, I did, he's my friend, but not in that way. And, now that I realized it, I hadn't spoken to him since he returned. I should probably get on that. "He's just a friend. I can't...I don't see him that way. At all. Never."

"Oh, too bad," MJ shrugged in disappointment. Well, at least she wasn't trying to convince me I was lying to myself. That happened in Rom-Coms a lot, too. "It would have been so romantic. The sheltered rich-boy and streetwise city-girl, two people living opposite lives who realize they have more in common than they thought."

"Well, we kind of do, that's why we're friends," I said, wishing that pointing out the obvious didn't make me feel so stupid. "And it would never be so movie-perfect. Besides, boys are not really a priority right now."

"You know what I think?" Mary Jane leaned in, quirking an eyebrow. Suspicious, I leaned away, watching her with a frown as she poked me in the arm and said, "I think you're afraid."

"What? No!" The idea sounded so absurd that I laughed. "I'm not afraid of boys!"

"Not boys, dummy," Mary Jane rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She waved at the barista at the counter, holding up two fingers and saying, "Two mochachinos, Jimmy! Anyways," she turned back to me, "I think you're afraid of romantic relationships. You're afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Someone hurt you in the past. Who was it?"

I froze. While not necessarily wrong, Mary Jane's assumption caught me by surprise. Images of Eddie flashed in my mind; him smiling, helping me with homework, those wild motorcycle rides through the city. All those times I felt anxious around him, before he ever really noticed me. Playing football, defending Puny Pete (back when that name still applied), graduating. The memory of Eddie giving the helmet that would eventually help turn me into Falcon played in my mind, as clear as though it happened yesterday.

Then the rest came after that. Eddie consumed by anger, hatred, revenge as the Symbiote took over. If Peter was bad, then Eddie was a thousand times worse. He wanted to hurt Peter and I by hurting the people we cared about. Old friends didn't matter. We had to suffer the same way he did. Having to fight my first crush, who wanted to kill me?

How do I answer a question like that?

"He was just some jerk," Gwen jumped in, saving me from the awkward silence. I threw her a grateful look. She knew just as well as I did what the truth was. Venom had used her as bait, was going to kill her to get back at Peter and me. "But he's not important anymore, right?"

"Right," I confirmed, looking back to Mary Jane with a more confident smile. Then for safe measure I added, "And I'm just too busy right now. Anything 'romantic' will just be another burden for me to deal with."

Mary Jane eyed me, apparently suspicious about Gwen intervening on my behalf. I didn't think MJ was an idiot, I had a feeling she knew that the topic was a little too sensitive to share with a virtual stranger. But she played it cool and said, "Okay, I believe you. But you shouldn't knock before you try it, Amy."

"I'm good, thanks."I replied in a cool tone. I didn't care how much Mary Jane tried to convince me, there was no way she was going to get me on a date. "There's not a single guy out there who I'll be interested in."

"Be careful what you say, Amy," Mary Jane said with a sly smile. As the two cups were placed down in front of her, she picked one up and took a sip. "I'm going to make you eat those words."

I didn't actually think she would.

OoOoO

Falcon was still stewing over Mary Jane's words as she flew over New York City. She didn't quite know how far the girl would go to hold that promise, but Falcon didn't doubt her determinism. There was an odd feeling in her stomach that Mary Jane was going to find something to screw her over with.

But she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about school, or boys, or her social life. Right now was the time Falcon devoted to protecting the city and hunting down bad guys, and she did that best when she was absolutely focused.

Of course, that was when she spotted Smoke in an office building.

More specifically, he was breaking into Kings & Sons, a high-security bank for some very wealthy people. It took all of zero imagination for Falcon to wonder what he was doing there.

For a brief second, Falcon considered letting Smoke go. She hadn't seen him since the argument and she really didn't want to rehash that little scene again. As she flew by, Falcon thought how nice it would be if she could go one night without anything extraordinary happening.

Then she heaved a sigh, resigning herself to the fact that she had to stop Smoke from stealing whatever he was about to steal. Falcon couldn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her responsibilities.

Of course, it would be just like Smoke to make it personal.

He was in the middle of breaking into a giant steel door – pressing buttons on some high-tech lock pad with touch-screen numbers. It seemed only to respond to the right fingerprint, which was probably giving him a host of problems.

Falcon managed to sneak up to him, opening a window and slipping inside. She moved past the desks, the chairs and benches into the smaller room beyond. The whole area was quite modern, with carpet flooring and black and white furniture. Most of the walls were glass or metal. There didn't seem to be an elevator nearby, but she did spot a door leading to a stairway.

Leaning against the wall, Falcon folded her arms and watched Smoke for a couple seconds as he struggled to bypass the fingerprint scan.

"Having any luck?" Falcon asked out loud, the scrambler making her voice sound deep and distorted. She smirked when Smoke jumped and whipped around. "Must be airtight if you can't get in your usual way."

"Oh, it's you!" Smoke looked surprised, then ticked. "Jeez, I thought you were someone else. What's with the new voice box? Were those dulcet tones of yours not striking fear into the hearts of villains like you wanted?"

Falcon lost her smirk. "Very funny. So, you wanna tell me what you're after before I set off the alarms and ruin another big score for you?"

"You're the reason I've been getting all the worst jobs," Smoke replied, scowling and motioning to the door behind him. He looked the same as last time, in the same black get-up, leather jacket and domino mask, curly mop of hair as messy as usual. How did he manage to make that look so good when there was no way he took a comb to that? "So bad, in fact, that now my clients won't even tell me what I'm trying to steal in case I screw up again. Which I won't, for the record."

"I think you're overestimating your skills there, pal," Falcon said, pushing away from the wall. With a flick of her hand the alarm system went off, triggered by a button she located underneath the abandoned security desk in front of the steel door. In the back of her mind, she wondered where the guard went. "Because there is no way in hell–"

Before she could finish her sentence, the floor started to rumble beneath Falcon's feet.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Falcon looked around, surprised, as all the entrances in the room were suddenly cut off by dropping walls of metal – covering every window, every door, even the vent shafts in the ceiling.

She frowned, dropping her arms. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Oh, good, you've ensured that neither of us will get out of here alive," Smoke grumbled, a hand going to his forehead. "Good work, hero."

"You know what," Falcon threw him a dirty look. "Rocks and glass houses, buddy. Bad criminals shouldn't criticize good security. Besides, I can break through those walls, easy. It's nothing I've never done before..."

Falcon was just making her way back to the windows when all of a sudden, a turret popped out of the ceiling, taking all of two seconds to aim at her. "Intruder alert. Target acquired."

"Whoa!" Falcon threw herself out of the way just in time to avoid getting turned into human Swiss cheese. She ducked behind a desk, throwing it over to protect her from the onslaught of bullets. Several more turrets appeared, all along the ceiling, firing not just at her, but at Smoke as well. Well, through him, really.

"I hope you know how to disable those!" Smoke retorted, his back against the steel door.

She managed to rip one from its post, but was alarmed to find it replaced by another. What kind of bank was this? Falcon knew Kings & Sons was popular with the rich and their priceless valuables, but this seemed incredibly excessive. Perhaps it was pertaining to the contents inside the safe. Now Falcon wanted to know what it could be that required automated gunfire to protect it. "Yeah, um, slight setback! I'm going to need a better place to hide until we can find a way to shut them off!"

"Well, don't look at me!" Smoke countered, looking more ticked than scared about the fact that they were facing an onslaught of gunfire. "I'm not going anywhere until I get what's inside that safe."

Falcon looked around, taking one look at the giant steel door before inspiration struck. "Oh, great idea!"

"What is?" Smoke threw her a bewildered look, moving out of the way as Falcon lunged across the room, diverting gunfire with one hand and reaching for the security pad with the other.

Falcon may not have been a hacker, but opening locked doors was always a talent of hers. Taking cover behind the main desk in front of the safe, Falcon put all her concentration into the safe's mechanism – thick bolts that held it to the wall inside the metal, which was nearly three feet thick. It was one of the heaviest things she had ever moved and it took all her strength to release the switch that held the gears in place, make those move and slid the inner bolts back, before finally pulling the entire door open. At least it had smooth hinges.

Pfft!

The sound of stale air behind released was music to her ears. Smoke uttered an incoherent cry of victory before ducking inside, followed closely by Falcon. The bullets followed them, leaving deep, smoking holes in the floor and walls, before pinging uselessly off the giant metal door as Falcon closed it behind them.

The inside of the safe wasn't much of a safe, at least not how Falcon envisioned it. Her radar had told her that there was some sort of hallway back here, but she had been too distracted by the guns outside to really pay attention. Indeed, the hall was about ten meters long, made of thick, black marble, with single bulbs of lights going all the way down to another door at the far end. It seemed less formidable than the one Falcon just opened.

She didn't consider it a bad idea until Smoke said, "I hope you can open that door again, because there is no other way out."

"Relax," Falcon remained at ease. The door was no more complicated from behind than in front. She had watched enough Mission: Impossible movies to know that this would be a cinch. "We've probably got about ten minutes before authorities arrive and get through that door. Now, let's go see what your clients want so badly that needs military-grade weaponry to defend it."

"Really?" Smoke didn't seem convinced. He crossed his arms, eyeing her with suspicion. "I figured you'd be so glad if I was finally put behind bars – I bet it'd be the happiest day of your life."

"You understand me so well, it's like your reading my mind," Falcon shot back in a sing-song voice. Or it would have been sing-song if her scrambler didn't make her sound like a pissed-off robot. She motioned down the hall. "But I'm more concerned with what's down there and who your client is. Something tells me that they'll be a lot more trouble than you ever will be."

"I'm touched," Smoke mumbled as Falcon started making her way down the hall.

Their footsteps echoed off the walls, incredibly loud and strangely terrifying. After closing the safe door, all sounds of gunfire had been cut off. Falcon was still aware of her surroundings, but the quietness of the place disturbed her. If she were in a movie, this would be the part right before all the bad stuff started happening. So why hadn't it already? It just felt wrong that nothing was showing up on her radar.

"Stop," Falcon held up her hand, halting in mid-step about half-way down the hall.

"What is it?"

"Doesn't it seem weird to you?" She asked him, setting her foot down behind the tile she had been about to step on. "It's too easy."

"Not complaining," Smoke replied.

"C'mon, think about it," Falcon urged, knowing that Smoke was better than this. He knew more about being a thief than her; surely he sensed something was up as well. "A multitude of security features on the outside but nothing on the inside? Don't tell me you don't find anything wrong with that."

There was second of silence before Smoke finally said, "Yeah, that is weird. Usually I'd expect lasers or toxic gas, which normally wouldn't get in my way at any rate; but it's never this boring."

"Exactly." Falcon said, waving her hand over the spot she was just about to step on. "This is why there's a pressure plate right...here."

She had picked up the strange mechanism on her radar and immediately guessed at what it was. Sure enough, when Falcon manipulated the sensor with her mind, there came a large grating sound, immediately followed by the floor in front of her opening up, and a burst of flame exploding to the ceiling.

"Whoa!" Falcon jumped back before the heat could melt the fabric of her suit. The flames were gone in an instant, and the pressure plate rose back up to its resting position. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

"Well, it's nice to know you're not as freaked out about this as I am," Smoke said, jumping over the pressure plate. "And because you closed the door behind us, they'll hurt me as much as they'll hurt you."

"Unlikely," Falcon replied, deciding it best to stay in front of Smoke in case he did something stupid. She kept her radar narrowed and highly-sensitive, looking out for even the tiniest of detail that might give away another trap. She grabbed Smoke's arm just as he was about to step on another pressure plate. "Look out!"

They stumbled back just as two slabs of wall on either side came together with a mighty crash. It was so powerful in fact, that the air practically exploded, knocking the two supers off their feet. Had they been even a couple inches forward, they would have been squashed flat. Then, like two old ladies that forgot what they were doing, the walls slid quietly back into their place, completely unrecognizable from the rest of the hallway.

"Well, that could've been messy," Smoke said, swallowing what was probably a cry of fear. He threw her an uncertain look, "Um, thanks."

"Don't mention it," Falcon said, breathless. The walls had moved so fast that she had barely a second of reaction time, and the force of their blow resonated on her radar, sending jitters down her arms and legs. She was a little shaky getting up, but shook off the feeling and moved onward relentless.

There were several other traps they barely managed to avoid. There was a pit of acid they managed to jump over, and a guillotine-like blade that dropped from the ceiling, nearly slicing them in half. The lasers Smoke mentioned earlier finally made an appearance, bright red lights that moved across the floor and burned everything in its path. The two managed to dodge through the lasers without incident; the only casualty being a lock of Smoke's hair.

The end singed and made him scowl in distaste. Falcon teased, failing to smother her laughter, "Don't worry, your head is as overinflated as ever."

"You're one to talk," Smoke retorted, shaking his head and heading towards the plain windowless door, now only a few feet away. "For someone who hates thieves and burglars, you'd make for an excellent one. But of course you're better than that, aren't you? You don't steal people's things, you just ruin their lives."

Falcon scowled, affronted. She did not expect her insult to be turned so quickly on her. Unable to come up with a sufficient comeback, Falcon just glared at Smoke as he walked past her.

He managed to open the door without much effort – a simple turn of the knob, as it were. When it opened, nothing popped out to kill them, which was a nice change of pace. Inside was an incredibly dark room. On sight alone Falcon couldn't tell how large it was, but her radar told her it was quite small, the ceiling curving upwards with walls only a meter away from the center. That was where a black pedestal stood. On that black pedestal was a black box – standing in the center of a spotlight high in the ceiling, the only source of light in the entire room.

"Any traps?" Smoke asked her, hesitating to walk in.

"I'm not picking up on any." Falcon replied. She sent a small wave of air across the floor, picking up the dust that had settled there. It didn't set off any triggers or sensors, and she deemed her statement valid. "It looks safe."

Together they headed inside, walking up to the pedestal. The room felt soundproof, as their footsteps felt muffled even though they were walking on tile. Falcon came to a stop several feet away from the pedestal, feeling wary, but Smoke went right up to it, hands rising to touch it.

"What is it?" Falcon asked, peering at the smooth black box. It had no lock, no number pad. It looked so plain for all the security measures.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Smoke threw her a sly grin. With delicate touch, he lifted the lid and pulled out the object inside. It was round, the size of the grapefruit, and perfectly spherical. She didn't know what it was made of, but it seemed to be a black stone, matching the same type of material as the box it was kept in.

Falcon tilted her head, unimpressed. "A rock? We came all this way for a rock?"

"Yeah, a bit anticlimactic," Smoke seemed disappointed as well. The rock in question looked like something on might find in a river. "It's almost funny."

"Let me see that," Falcon went over and snatched the rock from Smoke's hand, refusing to believe that that's all it was. It was surprisingly heavy – Falcon nearly dropped what felt like the weight of a bowling ball. "The only way I'll laugh is if the winning lottery ticket is in it."

"To which I propose we split 70-30," Smoke held up a finger. "If that were such the case."

Falcon looked up at him, affronted. She was in the middle of trying to twist the rock open; it was surprisingly resilient. "Wait, 70-30? That's not fair! Why do I get the cheap cut?"

"Because I did most of the work, that's why," Smoke replied, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in a smug manner. He smirked at her attempts to open the rock, "Besides, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't even know this exists."

"You son of a..." Falcon couldn't finish the sentence because the rock was taking too much effort. With a final huff, she threw the rock back to Smoke, who caught it in surprise. With the combined weight and strength of her throw, it was lucky Smoke didn't hurt himself. "Damn it! It won't open. I hope this stupid thing is worth something to get angry about."

"Well, it's worth me getting paid half a mill, so I'd say so," Smoke replied, throwing the rock up in the air and catching it again. "I don't know what it is, but as long as I get my check..."

Something flickered at the edge of Falcon's radar. It was coincided with a whisper, the tiniest sound of movement. She whipped around, caught off guard. So far, Falcon had assumed she and Smoke were alone in the room. Her skin tingled with the sensation of being watched and she looked back at Smoke, who just eyed her in confusion. To him she asked, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Smoke frowned at her. He stopped tossing the ball in the air and got up from the wall, looking around. At least he was taking her seriously, "Did you sense something?"

Falcon stretched her radar out. How did that thing, whatever it was, escape her notice? She couldn't sense it now, even though she knew it was there, somewhere. Out of instinct, she lowered her stance, along with her voice. "I don't think we're alone."

"Talk about a moment killer," Smoke said, earning a look of annoyance from Falcon. She didn't even know that meant, but she didn't like the way he said it. He seemed perturbed when her look lasted longer than necessary. "What? I was just joking."

Falcon froze. She was no longer looking at him. Her gaze had drifted upwards, to the pair of glowing eyes hovering over Smoke's head.

"Okay, I get it, it wasn't funny," Smoke said, sighing and rolling his eyes. He seemed to be entirely oblivious to the situation. "Will you just quit it already?"

But Falcon didn't move. She was trying to figure out what it was that seemed to be hovering in the air, nearly invisible to her radar. It was humanoid, that was all she could figure. She was trying to figure out how to get Smoke out of the way without alarming the creature and turning it aggressive.

"Falcon?" Smoke seemed to understand that something was wrong. His expression changed as the realization dawned on him. "There's something behind me, isn't there?"

As if to answer that question, a long, low growl filled the room. Smoke jolted, throwing himself out of the way just in time for the attacker to drop down and smash a crater into the spot he had just been standing in.

Falcon saw its fist first – white and metallic, followed by the rest of the body as it stood up. The arm was not human, but the shoulder it was attached to was. The two stumbled back as the person...thing stepped forward, into the only light in the room, revealing a man with not just one metal arm, but two; his face was covered in a mask, painted like a skull with two glowing red dots in their sockets. In each hand, the man carried a gun.

He raised both of them, one aimed at each trespasser.

Falcon only had one word to say:

"Run!"