Buongiorno, my lovely chums! Here is chapter two of the soon-to-be-famous Maximum Ride/Spiderman crossover. If you haven't already, go and check out The Art of Gift Giving on my page. It's a Christmas one-shot that's Max/Peter and set a few years into the future. Enjoy!
Max and Natasha sat opposite each other, Max's gifted cell phone that now entitled her to say that she was a member of the iPhone 5 club that she never really attempted to use for anything other than the occasional text message and a very angry game of Fruit Ninja placed between them on the hardwood flooring of the apartment.
Max looked down, then up, Natasha doing the same except with a waggle of the eyebrows. "You should call him."
After the events of the past few years and the death of her Flock, Tasha was the only female friend she had left and they were well matched, but Max felt herself missing the bubbly girliness of Nudge and Angel to balance out her serious demeanor. At times the winged girl and the Russian spy felt like too much concentrated badassery in one place, as if her head might explode from all of the stoicism and Max would just shake Natasha's shoulders and shout 'Do you ever do anything normal?!' But she had a sneaking suspicion that Natasha wouldn't reply and the question was a bit of hypocrisy on her part, considering that she wasn't exactly normal herself.
"Is that, uh, normal protocol?" Max was uneasy and crossed her arms, Peter's number still clutched in her fist from earlier that day and probably crumpled beyond repair form the many times she had read it, flattened it out, and then folded it back up again.
"I don't think you two are following normal protocol anymore," Natasha replied, nudging the phone towards Max with her forefinger.
"I attacked and forcibly seized an item in his possession," Max nudged the phone back towards Natasha.
"Ooh, look at all of those college words that you're using. I bet Tony's kicking himself for firing that tutor for your GED after only a month. You excel at school work."
"Yeah, well, I got into college didn't I?" She shrugged, the slip of paper falling from her hand to rest on top of the phone's screen.
"That his number?" Natasha picked it up by one corner of the paper like she was reading a fortune from inside a cookie and scanned it with her eyes.
"Don't touch it!" Max lunged for Tasha's hands but she easily blocked her with an outstretched arm. Max went limp as Tasha released both her and Peter's number, but she went into a frenzy again as Tasha picked up her phone and dialed the number.
"Tasha," Max hissed, but the redhead simply shrugged as she passed the phone to Max while it was already ringing.
"Hello?" a voice came through the receiver.
Max's eyes went wide and she pounded furiously at the touch screen to end the call as soon as she heard Peter come onto the line. "Shit, shit, shit, shit," she muttered, beginning to hyperventilate. She looked at the info from the call, which only lasted a measly three seconds, and when the screen went black she set it on the floor.
She managed to calm herself down before her phone started buzzing again. This time, Peter was calling back. Max let out a small sound of surprise and scrambled as far away from the phone as humanly possible without jumping out of the window.
"You must really like him," Natasha quirked an eyebrow and reached for the phone. Max waved her hands at her as if the phone was poisoned. "Oh come on, stop being a baby," she admonished and answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hi, this number called me a minute ago and then hung up." Max could hear the lilting tones of Peter's voice from across the room.
"Oh yes, sorry about that. I was wondering if this was the number of Peter Parker?" Natasha's voice was casual with seductive undertones, like she was working a case or trying to get Clint to wax his chest hair again.
"...yes." Peter was suspicious.
"The call earlier was from Max, who is..." Natasha glanced at Max who was mouthing death threats at her involving zebras and banana peppers. "...indisposed at the moment. She wanted to see if you were available this Friday night."
Max couldn't hear what Peter was saying on the other side of the line. Natasha nodded several times, muttered good bye, and ended the call. She then unlocked the phone and typed something into it. Max unfroze as if a spell was broken and dashed across the room to grab at the device in Tasha's hands.
"You're welcome," she said dryly, handing it over. And address and time was set in her calendar for two days from now.
"Why did you do that?" Her voice was nearing a high, keening whine of terror.
"It was obvious that you weren't going to, so someone had to push you in the right direction," Tasha shrugged as if it was just a normal occurrence.
Max took in a deep breath and let it out. "I hate you."
Natasha grinned. "No you don't."
"PARKER."
Peter cringed as his voice was being called from Jameson's office. He got up from his desk at the Daily Bugle with reluctance and trudged through the door. "Yes, sir?"
"Come in here." Jameson puffed on his cigar, his words distorted around the object as the choking smoke drifted through the room. Peter shut the door behind him.
Jameson slapped a selection of photos down on his desk in front of him and spread them out, pointing to a few with his stubby calloused fingers. They were the photos he had taken yesterday of the sycamore tree down on the NYU campus.
"Do you see anything wrong with these?" He asked Peter, who sensed that it might be a loaded question.
"They're just the pictures of the tree, sir," Peter said. "The ones that you asked me to put in the anniversary article."
"Look," A puff of smoke escaped from the corner of his mouth as he pulled a few pictures up out of the stack. The pictures were of Max. Max in profile, Max sleeping on the bench, Max laughing at the coffee shop. "I'm not paying you to look at pretty girls, so don't take pictures of them!"
"Oh," Peter turned bright red. "Er, sorry sir."
"Sorry's right," Jameson stacked the pictures back up, his cigar quivering. A cloud of toxic charcoal grey smoke flew into Peter's face as he stared at him. "Now go," he flicked his hand and Peter stood up hurriedly. "And take better pictures!"
"I heard you have a date tomorrow." Pepper popped up from behind the bar at Avenger's tower.
"Stop that," Max narrowed her eyes at Pepper. "Where did you even come from, anyway?"
Pepper did a hand gesture. "Irrelevant." She put her hands on her hips. "What we really need to deal with is that outfit."
Max looked down. She was wearing her father's old Black Sabbath shirt that had gotten too small for him when he had accidentally shrunk it in the wash a year ago, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a black leather belt. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's what you wear every day," Pepper said. "You certainly can't wear it on a date."
"But I-" Max began.
"Listen," Pepper touched Max's shoulder and walked past her towards the elevator, pushing the down button. "I'll come over to the house later and help you to pick something out." The elevator door opened and she stepped in. "See you then!"
"Okay..." Max's eyebrows knitted together, unsure of what had just transpired. I know why Tony keeps her around, Max thought. You can't say no to Pepper Potts.
"You need something that's flirty and fun, but also says 'Oh, I just threw this on and am looking casually gorgeous.'" Pepper had recruited Natasha who recruited Clint, who was currently giving her a piece of fashion advice from the depths of his mind that she really didn't want to see.
"Uh-huh..." Max gulped and looked at Clint with a blank stare.
"So all of your t-shirts are out unless you pair them with something more sparkly," he said matter-of-factly and went to open her closet.
Max turned to Natasha. "Did he try one of Bruce's experiments?"
Tasha gave a slight shrug, a grin bubbling up beneath her cool exterior. "He gets like this with clothes. I swear, it's all the What Not to Wear that he's been watching."
Max looked wildly from Natasha to Clint as he pulled things out of her closet giving them a yay or nay then shook her head, as if she wanted to forget the whole ordeal all together. "As long as he doesn't throw anything out, I'm only mildly disturbed and scarred for life. I'll get by with some therapy."
"Ha ha, Miss Sarcasm," Clint shot back. He pulled out a band t-shirt with a chunky sweater and some coffee-washed jeans. "Here."
Max contemplated the outfit for a second. She shrugged and walked into the adjoining bathroom. "Not my first choice, but okay. Hipster it is."
"You'll look great!" Pepper shouted encouragingly.
"Don't you people have someplace better to be?" Max's voice came through the wooden door. "Like the middle of a battle, saving the world or something?"
"Surprisingly, the world hasn't been churning out many masterminds lately," said Natasha. "The most villainous thing that's happened last week was Tony eating all of Bruce's chips back at the tower."
Max walked out of the bathroom and Pepper clapped a hand on her shoulder, maneuvering her into a sitting position on her bed, and began to braid her hair. Max blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes and scrunched her nose in a disgruntled manner.
She glanced at Pepper through the corner of her eye. "I don't think I ever had this much attention since Fang and I-"
"Since Fang and you what?" Pepper asked, continuing to weave Max's hair into something presentable.
"Since we first went out." She almost whispered it, immediately dampening the festive and jubilant mood. "Nudge used to braid my hair for me since it was so tangled that she could never curl it, not liked we even owned a curling iron...or electricity. Ha, she would have loved that," Max chuckled. "Angel was just learning how to braid. But she picked it up like that." She snapped her fingers.
There was a pause as no one in the room was quite sure what to do, aside from Natasha who was usually quiet anyway.
"There," Pepper said, pinning the last of Max's long hair up into a braided halo. She stood from her perch on Max's bed, scrutinizing Max to see if she was truly date-ready. "Now twirl."
Max stood up and awkwardly turned around. "We're just hanging out at his house, nothing big."
"Oh hush," Pepper said, pulling Max in for a hug. "My baby is all grown up!"
"Um, okay, cool," Max extricated herself from Pepper's grip. "I'm just going to leave now." She gestured with her thumbs to the door of her apartment, grabbing her wallet, keys, and phone. "Bye."
Peter's house was farther than she thought. Still not accustomed to the subway or to driving a car, she got lost three times on her way there. For a second she contemplated flying, but she didn't want to rip slits into her Kansas t-shirt and she was pretty sure Clint would kill her if she ruined the sweater, so she resorted to getting off at the nearest subway station and walking. Her feet hurt from disuse. She should have just taken a cab.
Max walked up to his front stoop and rang the doorbell, her hands tucked away in her pockets against the cold night air as her breath made clouds around her face. She heard a crash from inside the house and someone swear under their breath before the door opened to reveal a very tousled-looking Peter.
"Max," he said, sounding surprised and looking at the non-existent watch on his wrist.
"Hi," she said back. "Is this a bad time? Because this is what was in my phone-"
"No, it's- Well, sort of." He looked back into the house. "My aunt May is sick with the flu and I need to take care of her."
"Peter?" A frail female voice called from inside the house. "Who's there?"
Peter mouthed 'sorry' about their canceled date as he opened the door to reveal a woman around fifty-years-old with dark hair and intense dark green eyes. She was holding a tissue to her mouth and coughed before smiling sweetly at Max.
"Did you two have a date tonight?" she asked prodding at Peter.
"I didn't know that you were sick, sorry," Max said. "He should take care of you."
"Nonsense, this boy can barely take care of himself," she said. "I'm May Parker, and you are? I would shake your hand, but I don't want to get you sick too."
"I'm Max," Max smiled at Aunt May.
"Well come in, Max" She coughed and moved out of the foyer, walking back to the living room. "We were just starting to watch a movie."
Peter and Max exchanged a glance and she shrugged as if to say 'what can you do?' Peter closed the door behind her as the heat hit her face full-blast.
"I like her," She whispered to him as he took her coat and they joined Aunt May in the living room.
"You better," Peter whispered back with a teasing grin. They both sat down on the couch, Aunt May on an overstuffed armchair, with a few DVDs spread out on the coffee table. "So we have The Goonies, The Breakfast Club, and Pretty in Pink to choose from."
"80s movie night?" Max asked, curling her legs underneath her on the cushions.
"Favourite movie night," Aunt May replied. "The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink are mine, The Goonies is Peter's."
Peter looked at Max, who raised her eyebrows, and then directed his eyes downwards, clearing his throat. "So, you can choose, since Aunt May and I were in an all-out war before you rang the doorbell."
Max scanned the titles of the movie choices. "Hmm...The Goonies."
"Nice choice," Peter said, popping the disk out of its case and feeding it to the DVD player. "Have you ever seen it before?"
"Nope," Max shook her head. "But it had pirates on it and anything with pirates can't be too bad, can it?"
"Can't argue with that logic." Peter sat back on the couch, casually throwing his arm around Max's shoulders. She stiffened for a second before realizing that she wasn't going to take it away and then scooted closer to him. Aunt May took a sip of tea and eyeballed them out of the corner of her vision as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.
As far as dates went, it wasn't too bad.
Not exactly as one would imagine their first date going, but not too bad. Now that Aunt May's been introduced to Max, she's going to hound him like crazy about it. 'Where's that lovely girl you brought over? Go out with her again!' I think Aunt May should be everyone's personal shoulder to cry on and relationship motivator, she'd make a lot of money off of it.
And the question of the day is...
What did you think of the date?
Ta-ta!
-Acca