A/N: Update courtesy of Gleefully Wicked, who is better at effective update bugging than I am.
How could it have come to this?
New York was in the grip of sheer terror, a city whose people held their breath and stared at the night sky in fear for their lives. High above, in a cab suspended by sticky, black web strands, the young woman wondered where her life had taken a wrong turn. Her eyes widened as she stared out the window at the man being beaten to a pulp below her.
The man she loved. And now that love would kill him.
Suddenly, the cab lurched backwards. The girl screamed, and-
"You're on my arm."
"Sorry."
Lucas shifted on the couch; Wednesday moved her arm and nestled closer against his chest without taking her eyes off the screen. Easier to think about Mary Jane's latest plight than the fact that she was unabashedly cuddling her best friend. He'd been considerate enough to say nothing about it, so neither would she.
The superheroes' battle raged on, and she rolled her eyes. "This girl needs to just get superpowers already."
"Hm?" he replied.
"Think about it. She's constantly getting kidnapped and almost dying; it would make a lot of lives easier if someone would just get a mutant spider to bite her, too, or something."
With a chuckle, he reached for the remote and turned the volume down a few notches. "Maybe."
"And," she continued, looking at him over her shoulder, "then she'd be able to relate to Peter better. They wouldn't have as much tension, because they could go out and save the world together. Maybe then they'd have one common interest besides each other, and they'd fight less, and…"
She trailed off. His eyes, she suddenly realized, were brown and warm and very close. In fact, his entire face was very close. A buzzing noise seemed to fill her ears, and time slowed down. Something was very close to happening that couldn't be taken back. If she leaned back just a few inches- no. It would destroy everything.
And then a tiny voice in her head said, Who cares?
Without further deliberation, Wednesday leaned back just a few inches and kissed him. Not deeply and not for long; only a brush of lips. But when she drew back, his eyes were wide. Hand shaking, he grabbed the remote again and stopped the movie.
Oh my god. What have I done? Jumping off the couch, she quickly crossed the tiny living room to a chair by the door and grabbed her coat. She fumbled with the sleeves for a minute before finally getting her arms into the black wool, carefully avoiding Lucas' gaze the whole time. Buttoning her coat, she shouldered her bag and was almost to the door when he finally spoke.
"Wait." Silence was the only response.
"Wednesday, wait," he repeated.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to keep her voice as emotionless as possible. Lucas took a step towards her and ran a hand through his hair.
"It's just- you're married."
"Funnily enough, I'd noticed," she almost snapped. To his credit, Lucas stayed calm. Taking another step forward, he reached out to touch her shoulder but thought better of it. She let her bag slip down her arm somewhat, but otherwise remained immobile as a statue.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I shouldn't have…"
"Kissed me?" the young man finished. She nodded, and he sighed.
"I'd be lying if I said I'm not glad you did."
"But as you pointed out, I'm married!" She turned on her heel, still not looking at him, and stormed back into the living room. Dropping her bag to the worn gray carpet, she began to pace back and forth quickly.
"I have a loving husband back in the suburbs, waiting for me to come home after the worst fight of our three-year marriage. I've been out almost all night, at another man's apartment- and I just kissed you! What about this doesn't scream wrong?" she ranted.
For a moment, Lucas watched her silently from the doorway. Then, he crossed the room and stood squarely in her path. When she stopped, he firmly grabbed her shoulders, and she tensed under his hands.
"Let. Go," she practically growled. The young poet did, but didn't get out of her way.
"Listen. Clearly, we need to talk about some things here. You wearing a path in my living room carpet doesn't help anything, so why don't we sit down-" he gestured to the couch –"and figure this out?"
Wednesday hesitated, but finally sat down hard on the brown suede cushions. Her friend joined her (without using so much force that the springs creaked). And once again, awkward silence filled the small apartment.
"So."
"So."
More silence. Crickets chirping wouldn't have been out of place, if they hadn't been in the middle of a huge city. Then, both spoke at once.
"Do you-" Lucas began, at the same time as Wednesday said, "I don't actually-". They stopped, looked at each other awkwardly, and he gestured for her to go ahead. But she just raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.
"No. You first."
"Do…do you love him?" he said. To his credit, he maintained eye contact, and Wednesday felt something turn over and tighten in her stomach. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged.
"Of course I do." Even to her, the words sounded rushed and insincere.
With a small nod, he said, "Of course. You married the man, after all. So you must love him. Sorry, stupid question."
And suddenly, she heard herself say, "Actually, that's a lie. I don't, and furthermore I've known that since our wedding day."
There. It was a terrible thing to say, so why did she feel better for having said it? For his part, Lucas just nodded again, but it seemed more genuine this time. He let the statement hang in the air for a minute.
"So what does that make us?" he asked.
She looked up sharply. "I'm not sure."
"I won't break up a happy marriage," he said cautiously, "so you need to be sure. If you don't love him because of me, you should probably go home now."
Wednesday thought for a moment. "No," she said at last. "I don't think I ever loved him."
"Really?"
"I swear on the graves of my ancestors, Lucas."
Almost without her noticing, they'd been getting slowly but steadily closer to each other as they spoke. By now, the two were no more than a foot apart. They were staring into each other's eyes, and Wednesday had the strange feeling that the rest of the apartment- or the whole city –had disappeared. The moment was so predictable that she almost wanted to laugh at how clichéd it was, but she never got the chance.
It seemed like one second they were separated and the next, in each other's arms. Lucas, she dimly realized, had moved first, but it hardly mattered. His hands were on her back, quickly travelling towards her hips and hers were clenched in his hair; she drew his face towards her and kissed him again. No chaste peck this time, either, but deeply, with him responding to her fervor in kind.
When they broke apart for air, both breathing hard, she whispered, "Care to take this somewhere more private?"
Lucas paused. "I should say no, because you're emotionally compromised. But…"
"Screw emotionally compromised," she replied. "If you're not in some state of undress within ten minutes, I might kill something."
With a sly smile, he replied, "You're my kind of crazy."
As they made their way down the hall to Lucas' tiny bedroom, Wednesday tried to feel a pang of guilt. Even the tiniest bit would have made her feel like what she was doing was less reprehensible. But all she could manage was pity for Joel- and the feeling that, for the first time in a long time, she was doing something right.
A/N: *12-year-old Christina Ricci voice* They had sex.
Reviews are much appreciated.