Chapter 8: A Bad Day, A Bad Night
I finally got around to reviewing the order of events in the series. If you're curious, this is kind of an alternate season 3. Most of the events of seasons 1 and 2 have happened, but not all. The events that haven't happened are pretty minor though, so I'll just leave some clues in the coming chapters ;)
FALSE FACT ALERT:
I mistakenly said Phoebe is the name of one of Mars' moons back in chapter 4. That is incorrect. Mars' moons are Deimos and Phobos. I guess I got that mixed up with Phoebe. I'll fix it . . . eventually . . .
Pink Lemondade: I'm glad you're enjoying the fun facts! I've always adored stories that let you learn along the way, even if the info isn't exactly practical for daily life. I would love to tell you that all the plot seeds are planted, but, well, this is looking longer and longer with each chapter that passes.
The day started like a blank canvas, bland yet full of potential. As the hours passed, however, it became apparent that Peter wasn't the artist. He was right in the middle of the canvas, and the true wielder of the paintbrush was either a very malevolent being or a toddler amped up on sugar.
It was a Tuesday, the very same Tuesday that Ty and Tandy were supposed to meet someone behind Finbar's Peculiar Pet Emporium. Peter had spent the previous night deciding his course of action, and he had decided he would keep an eye on them as Spider-Man. If it was too suspicious, he would just happen to pass by their alley. It was simple, and Peter felt more than prepared.
So naturally, the day seemed intent on proving how unprepared he was.
First, he forgot to print out his essay for History. Then there was a pop quiz in Biology. Granted, Peter liked tests, but he did better with real tests that he could study for, especially when he had been a bit distracted in class the past few days. Pop quizzes brought on an anxious dread unmatched by even the most hopeless battles he had fought as Spider-Man.
After that there was a pleasant lack of frustrations for a short while during lunch. That was probably the worst part, because it lulled Peter into a false sense of security.
After he grabbed his food from the lunch line, Ava stepped in front of him. "Hey Pete, remember that conversation we were having the other day during the stakeout?"
"Um, yeah?"
"Do you want to continue that conversation?"
Peter glanced around the crowded cafeteria. "Here? This isn't the most private place."
"I know a spot. So do you want to?"
She was catching him off guard like this. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about some of his spider stuff (maybe only a little). School and super weirdness were usually separate, so he hadn't expected her to want to continue the conversation here of all places. Almost literally anywhere else would be more private, but if she knew a place . . . Besides, Harry and MJ were off talking to one of the Drama teachers. "Well, all right."
Ava led the way outside to the small cafeteria patio. Midtown High had a small courtyard that was mostly concrete with a few small patches of plants here and there. A crisp and cool breeze blew over the metal tables, which were mostly deserted. She chose a table in the farthest corner from the door. They set their trays down opposite each other.
"So, do you want to start?" Peter asked, opening his water bottle. This felt more awkward than he had thought it would be.
"If you want. This isn't just a tradeoff though. We're the only two people with animal-based powers on the team. This week has reminded me that we're a little different from the others."
Peter paused with his French fry halfway to his mouth. That was pretty much the same thing he had thought the other day. He hadn't known Ava felt the same way. "Well, yeah, you're right. So you want to turn this into a sort of club?"
She made a face as she ripped open a ketchup packet. "Not really. That's a lot of work and we don't really know anyone else who fits the bill. Can't this just be an open chat?"
"That's fine. Clubs just sound cool, you know?" Peter finally ate his French fry. "It'd be nice to start a secret club."
Ava rolled her eyes. "We're Shield agents. Isn't that secret club enough for you?"
"Shield isn't really a secret organization though. Everyone knows it exists."
"That's pretty much all anyone else knows about Shield."
"Kind of, I guess." Peter ate another French fry, watching Ava pick up her burger. Now that he had the opportunity, he suddenly found himself more curious about her. "Can I ask you a question about your powers, then?"
"That is the whole point of this conversation."
"Right, so, you said you feel like your senses are sharper than usual even without your amulet. Is your sense of smell strongest, like a tiger's would be?"
"Yup, and I know it's very strong. I can smell the football team coming from more than a hallway away."
Peter wrinkled his nose. "Ew, yeah. At least you never have to go into the boys' locker room."
"Wow, I don't even want to imagine that." Ava rested her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. "Your sense of smell is that strong too? You never really mention that, and I never heard of spiders having a good sense of smell."
"Well, spiders actually do have a really good sense of smell. They have to be able to smell the—ah—pheromones in the air." Peter did not want to get into the subject of pheromones. "But I don't think I'm as sensitive to smell as you are. You can track bad guys from scent alone. I'm not that good." He suddenly remembered how he had hunted the dinosaur in the Savage Lands, but he decided not to mention that.
"I suppose not. We could test that though." A smile spread on Ava's lips. "Hey, that could be fun."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "What? Testing my senses? Shield's already been doing that."
"Not just you. We could do little challenges and see how our senses compare. A battle—" she gasped excitedly "—a battle of the senses!"
"Did you just make a pun?"
"You're a bad influence. So what do you say? Want to do that tonight?"
"Um, maybe not tonight," Peter said, thinking of his prior engagement. He took a bite of his chicken tenders, or he tried to. The veneers blunted his bite drastically. "We have patrol for a few hours, and then I need to help May out with something. How about tomorrow?"
"Hm, Danny wants to study with me tomorrow. We'll work it out." She watched him struggle with the chicken tender for a minute. "You can take off the veneers if you want. We're pretty much alone out here."
Peter put the tender down, embarrassed. "I don't want to gross you out or anything. I should have just known better than to take these. They put way too much breading."
Ava snorted. "Go right ahead. It's not like the plastic knives they've got here will cut through those anyway." Smirking, she took an absolutely humongous bite of her burger.
Peter hesitated for a minute, but his stomach quickly won out. He put the veneers away and took a proper bite of the chicken. His teeth shredded through it easily now.
There was definitely a difference between forking food into his mouth and biting it. When he bit into things, he could feel his fangs pulling the food in. It took a bit of adjustment, but he was getting used to it. In another week or so, he doubted he would feel it strange at all.
He wasn't sure if that was comforting or not.
He certainly felt uncomfortable with Ava watching him so intently.
"Am I entertaining?" he asked when he was done chewing.
"You are, actually, yeah," she replied, but she did have the decency to look away then. "I've watched plenty of vampire and werewolf movies, but, as often as fangs show up in media, I've never seen moving fangs."
Peter shrugged, self-conscious all over again. "Is that a compliment or. . . .?"
"Relax, it's just a comment. I get fangs when my amulet is active."
"You do?" he asked incredulously. "I've never seen them."
"I'm usually already suited up by the time I activate it. I'll show you when we do the battle thing. Mine are more impressive than yours. I have the two lower fangs too." She opened her mouth slightly, tapping a long nail on her bottom teeth.
"Really? Well, I don't know about them being more impressive. You admit that yours down move." It was a very surreal experience for Peter to not only talk about his fangs but also to boast about them.
"Trust me, mine look way scarier than yours." She cocked her head. "Or maybe it's just presentation. I'll have to see you growl to really make a comparison."
"Spiders don't growl."
"Right." She grinned. "You have hissy fits."
"It's not a hissy fit!"
"I never knew you had hissy fits, Pecker," said an all too familiar voice.
Peter supposed it had been a few days since Flash had last tormented him.
He turned to face the blond, feeling the color rising in his cheeks. Flash was no longer the bully he had once been. He hadn't given Peter a wedgie in months. But he was still seen as the class instigator, and he was all too happy to fill the role by making fun of anyone unpopular. His favorite person to pick on was still Peter, although he had been little more than a pest these past few months. His petty jokes hardly bothered Peter anymore. But today he happened to overhear one of the few things that could actually mortify Peter. How much else had he heard?
"What are you doing out here, Flash?" Ava asked coldly. "Rejected from the dweeb table?"
"I noticed you two had snuck off together. Having a lover's quarrel in private?"
"She's not my girlfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend."
Peter turned to her. "Gee, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea." She just shrugged in response.
"Ooh, Parker, I don't know how MJ is going to feel about this," Flash teased with his infuriatingly perfect smile.
Right now, Peter couldn't even smile back if he wanted to.
"I'm not dating MJ either."
"No, but we all see the way you look at her. You wear your heart on your sleeve." Flash plopped down at their table. "So, I repeat, what's this about hissy fits?"
Flash was speaking loudly. Consequentially, a crowd was starting to form. Peter refrained from burying his face in his hands.
"Since when were my conversations worthy of eavesdropping?"
"You've got some sass today." A large grin was spreading on Flash's face. "Say, I'm noticing a pattern here."
"You can notice patterns now? I thought we learned that back in kindergarten," Peter quipped, ignoring the significant look Ava was giving him.
It was such a shame when your superhero alter ego hogged all the jokes. Why did his brand of humor have to be so identifiable?
Ava began gathering her things. Peter followed suit, not really interested in Flash's conclusion so long as it didn't have anything to do with spiders.
"No, I'm putting together the clues now." That annoyingly huge grin was still on Flash's face. He was beginning to look like the Grinch after Christmas was ruined. "You're having hissy fits, showing sass, and not dating any girls."
Peter and Ava stood. The crowd wasn't ready to let them pass though.
"So you must really be a girl!"
Peter grit his teeth. He didn't need these rumors going around when he was hoping to ask MJ out. What he wouldn't give to say 'I'm Spider-Man for a reason'. Instead, he said as calmly as he could, "If you really think that, Flash, then that explains why you've always been so interested in me."
There was a collective 'ooh' from the crowd.
"I'm out of your league. But you hang around Osborn. Are you trying to marry into his money?"
"Jealous?" Ava asked with a smirk.
"Don't encourage the idea!" Peter scolded.
"I'm just saying. Come on, Pete." Ava glared at the crowd, and a gap appeared for them to pass through.
"See ya, Penelope Parker!" Flash yelled after them.
When they were back inside, Ava leaned closer to Peter, voice low. "Look, I'm sorry. Here we were talking about how great our senses are, and neither of us saw him coming."
"The rumors will only last a week or two," Peter said somewhat hollowly. That wouldn't stop Flash from milking that time for everything it was worth. "It's fine."
"I'll make it up to you though."
"It's not your fault he came over."
"But I mentioned the hissy fit thing, and I told you to take off your veneers. That just made it worse, didn't it?"
"Well . . ."
"So that settles it. I'll make it up to you." She offered him a small smile. "I promise."
After dinner, Peter told his aunt that he had a lot of homework to work on and rushed back to his room. His spider suit was already laid out on the bed since he had worn it out on patrol just about an hour ago. It had been a fairly droll day with only a few car jackers to worry about, so he wouldn't be fighting to stay awake as he watched Ty and Tandy's meeting. But it was still early now, and he had one thing to do before he left. He pulled Phoebe's Jungle Box out of the closet.
Hello Speter!
Her overly excited greeting brought a much-needed smile to Peter's face. "Hello, Phoebe. How are you?"
Phoebe great.
"Did you have fun with your toys while I was gone?"
Yup! She climbed up a stick Peter had placed in there the other day. It was sturdy enough to hold her weight and much easier for her to climb than the glass walls. Phoebe go? Phoebe swing?
"I'm so sorry, but I need to go out one more time today. I have a little more Spider-Man work to do. Okay?"
Okay, Phoebe said understandingly, although Peter could feel her disappointment.
"Don't be sad. Hopefully this won't take too long. And anyway, I'm going to get you a surprise!"
Surprise?
"That means I can't tell you what I'm bringing, but I think it'll make you happy," he explained, thinking of the live crickets that would hopefully double as new toys.
Live bugs? What live?
Peter deflated, slapping a hand over his face. Duh. They had a mental link, and Phoebe had already proved she could browse through his thoughts easily. He should have known it was impossible to keep secrets from her.
Well, at least he didn't really have any reason to keep secrets from her. Except to give her surprises, which was now out of the question.
It occurred to Peter that their link seemed to be imbalanced. Phoebe was able to hear all of his thoughts, but he could usually only hear thoughts he sent to him. Was he that bad at this still? Probably. He had tried to ignore the fact that the mental link even existed for most of the week.
Maybe he should stop ignoring these things and start to finally figure everything out.
Then again, did he really want to hear every thought from a growing female spider?
He sighed. Why was life so complicated?
Speter okay? Phoebe asked tentatively. Speter want unload?
"No, it's fine. I'm sorry, this is all still very new to me." He ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'm going to bring you live crickets. That means they're going to be jumping around, just like you pretend with your toys. Then you'll really have something to chase."
Really?! Joy! Phoebe waved most of her legs in the air, nearly falling off the stick.
"Careful there." Peter laughed. "I'm glad you like the idea. Now, I'm not sure if I'll be able to let you try a live cricket tonight. I don't know how long I'll be out and it might get late. So I'll give you some crickets now, and you'll have the live ones by tomorrow, okay?"
Okay!
"Promise me you'll eat them," he added sternly as he carefully put the crickets into the terrarium. "Remember how you were so busy playing yesterday that you forgot to eat and you got a belly ache?" Peter wasn't too clear on spider anatomy yet, but the facts spoke for themselves. Phoebe had indeed complained of pain afterwards. So there went the idea that Phoebe might take after the spiders that only needed to eat sporadically.
And there went Peter's allowance.
Phoebe promise.
Peter nodded, proceeding to put his suit back on. He also stuffed some civilian clothes into a backpack. There was no way he was going to let rumor spread of Spider-Man buying bugs to eat. Jameson would have a field day with that.
He waited until just before he left to put the terrarium back into the closet. "Bye, Phoebe. I'll see you later."
Bye! Speter-Man go swing!
And swing he did.
It was another perfect night for a stakeout.
Maybe that should have tipped Peter off about how it would all go down.
He lay on his stomach on the edge of a rooftop, watching the alley behind Finbar's Peculiar Pet Emporium. He was glad he had chosen to wear his suit. Because if he had to interfere, Spider-Man had a lot more authority than Peter Parker.
Ty and Tandy stood down below, completely unaware of his presence as far as he could tell. They were chatting quietly about mundane things. Peter couldn't make out the entire conversation as some words were lost to the background noise of the city, but it didn't sound like he was missing much.
They had arrived ten minutes after he climbed up here, and at least fifteen more minutes had passed since then. Peter didn't know when their mysterious meeting was supposed to start, but judging from their increasingly anxious looks around the alley, the time was fast approaching.
Ten more minutes later, and it looked like the time had long passed.
Peter began to grow bored. During the last stakeout, he had at least had his team to talk to. But now it was just him. He fiddled with his web shooters' settings. He played a game of solitaire on his phone. He even opened one of the new packages of insects he had just bought. The dead crickets, not the live ones he had gotten for Phoebe.
He wasn't looking forward to her offering him some like she had last time.
As the minutes wore on, Peter began to feel antsy. He just wanted to get up and move. This was a feeling he was used to. Ever since the spider bite, he had felt so energetic. Even before he had decided to become a superhero, he had enjoyed running around just to get it out of his system. Now patrol took care of that nicely.
Hm, yet he had already gone on patrol with the team today. Sure, it hadn't been a grueling night. Supervillains didn't attack every day, after all. But he had swung around for a while. That should have been enough. Yet he felt like he could swing for a few more hours.
He looked at the crickets in his gloved hand. Bugs didn't act like energy boosters, did they?
He was distracted by movement in the alley below. Someone was finally coming. It was a tall man with a muscular build. What little light came in from the street shone on his bald head. He was extremely familiar. Peter chewed on the last cricket in his hand as he wondered where he had seen this man before. Was he a conman? A thief? Definitely no one good . . . Then it hit him.
That was Coach Yaegar. AKA, Taskmaster in disguise.
But he had been ousted months ago. Why was he still using that persona? Was he still trying to recruit people for whatever crazy plot he had planned?
Probably, yeah. Supervillains never knew when to quit.
This was bad, though. If Taskmaster was involved, then this was way bigger than Peter had expected, definitely not a situation he could handle himself. He would have to tell Shield and the team, which would in turn require him to come up with an excuse for stumbling upon this meeting in the first place. He couldn't exactly tell them that he had overheard the conversation when he was buying food for Phoebe. Of course, he could say he was buying the bugs for himself, but that was just begging for Sam to tease. Maybe he could say he overheard them talking in a different store like an ordinary supermarket or a pizzeria . . .
Taskmaster said a few words that Peter couldn't hear thanks to a nearby train. He then began to lead Ty and Tandy out of the alley. Peter rose to a crouch, pulling his mask back over his mouth, ready to follow them as silently as a ninja.
"Hey Spider, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Peter whirled around. As he turned, his spider sense urged him to flip, so he did. A whip cracked right where he had been.
"Ooh, you are as fast as they say," the cat burglar said, sounding amused. "What are you, psychic?"
Seeing the cat burglar up close was a lot more . . . revealing than chasing her from afar. She wore the same black leather jumpsuit, but now Peter could see the subtle details like the zippers and laces. He also couldn't help but notice how low cut it was. He quickly focused his gaze on her face. Her eyes were bright and wild with glee, glinting in the dark.
"Not quite psychic, but close," Peter replied proudly. "What are you doing here? I thought you only robbed fancy places."
"I'm not here to borrow anything." She walked toward him slowly, whip trailing behind her, heels clicking on the rooftop. "I'm here to stop you from following those people down there."
Peter's eyes narrowed. He prepared to jump away at a moment's notice. "You work for Taskmaster?"
Her red lips quirked downward. "I prefer to think of it as a partnership."
"Oh, did I touch a nerve?"
She smiled indulgently. "I knew I'd like you. Now let's have some fun."
She moved quickly, flicking the whip again, but Peter was ready. He dodged to the side. Glancing down, he saw the alley was empty. He could probably still catch up and bring the fight to them though. Then Ty and Tandy might run away and Taskmaster wouldn't be able to do anything about it. That sounded like a good temporary plan. He let himself fall into the alley as the cat burglar pulled her arm back for another attack.
His spider sense rang out again, but he was falling too fast to stop. There was an electronic beep and the alley floor lit up with electricity. Peter fell right onto it, screaming as his muscles contracted. Maybe he hissed too. It was impossible to tell, and he found he didn't care at the moment.
It stopped abruptly a few seconds later. Peter gasped, working to regain control of his limbs. Being electrocuted was one of the worst forms of attack. It just hurt everywhere.
A heeled boot pressed down on his chest right after he was able to breathe again.
"Your little psychic power didn't tell you that was coming, huh?"
"It—it did," Peter managed to wheeze. "It was just a little late."
"Interesting." She kneeled down so they were practically face to face. She looked genuinely curious as she lightly traced his suit's web pattern with a finger. "I wonder how that works."
Peter was thankful his mask hid his blush.
He almost missed the slight vibration of his communicator. The severity of the shock must have turned on its homing beacon. If he didn't turn it off in the next few seconds, it would call for backup. But he didn't need that right now. Not really.
"Haven't you heard? Curiosity puts the cat in prison."
Peter shifted to throw her off balance, grabbing her arm to fling her away. But she twisted in the air, landing on her feet and flipping Peter over her head. He landed face down. Painfully.
Maybe backup wouldn't be a bad idea. He let his communicator do its thing. It was not because he was too stunned to stop it.
Rubbing his face, he pushed himself up into a crouch. "I guess it's a little late to ask if you really want to hurt me."
The cat burglar stood over him, brushing off some alley gunk from her leather. "It's not so much about hurting you as it is about getting the job done. It's not personal at all."
"I bet you say that to all the superheroes."
"You're my first, actually. And there's something special about the first, isn't there?"
"Yay, I'm special," Peter monotoned.
Careful to move even faster this time, he trapped the cat burglar's feet in place with some webbing and jumped away onto the wall. Ignoring how sore he felt, he climbed up out of reach. When he looked back down, the cat burglar hadn't moved an inch. She was smirking up at him.
"Not bad. The wall crawling thing is so freaky. I love it!" Slowly, casually, she kneeled down and cut the webs away with a clawed hand. Her nails glinted silver. Were they metal?
"Stop trying to butter me up. I'd like to see you cut your way out of this mess."
Peter aimed both web shooters and began firing large gobs of webbing. The cat burglar dodged and danced out of the way. When he began to predict her movements, she really did slice through the silk like nothing. Peter stopped before his web cartridge ran out. She laughed. That amused smile was beginning to get on Peter's nerves.
"Well," she said when she caught her breath. "You're not a mouse, but we felines do enjoy catching bugs."
"Spiders are arachnids, not bugs."
"You say that like I care."
With that, she leapt up. She was strong, reaching him in that one jump, but Peter dodged in time, climbing the rest of the way up the roof. Before he made it to the top, his spider sense buzzed, and the whip snapped at his feet. He quickly pulled himself onto the roof. There was a clatter behind him, and suddenly the cat burglar was soaring over his head. She landed a few feet in front of him.
"You move well in those heels, Catwoman," Peter said begrudgingly.
"See, I was debating on calling myself that," she said, putting a hand on her hip. "But it's just so bland. I prefer to be called the Black Cat. It has so many fun and spooky connotations, you know?"
Peter's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling my name bland? Some of us prefer our names to be self-explanatory. And what's with the 'the'? Are you going to be like Hacker and say 'it's the Black Cat to you'?"
Black Cat blanched for the first time. "What?"
"It's—it's from a cartoon. Never mind. Geesh, you're a newbie. The bad guys usually just roll with whatever I say."
"Exactly how young are you?" she asked seriously.
"I'm not that young. I'm Spider-Man for a reason." At least he was able to say that to somebody today, he mused. "Don't let any doubts stop you from trying to beat me."
Black Cat's smile was back. "If you insist."
Peter wished he hadn't insisted.
It appeared that the fun banter part of this fight was over. She rushed at him silently, which was quite an achievement considering how loud her heels had sounded before. Her whip flipped back and forth relentlessly. Peter had to rely almost solely on his spider sense to dodge.
At last, he spotted an opening. Instead of moving aside, he brought his arm up to catch the whip. It stung, but he was able to pull it out of Black Cat's hand. She stumbled toward him. Peter punched with his other fist. At the same time, she swiped at him.
They both retreated in pain.
"This kitty needs to be declawed," Peter declared, pressing a hand to the wound. The cut didn't feel deep, but it was right on his thigh. Every step was going to be painful now. He threw the whip over the edge of the roof
"Oh please. You almost messed up my makeup," Black Cat complained, rubbing her jaw. "And that was my favorite whip."
"Wow, shallow mu—?"
Peter didn't get to finish his sentence as Black Cat charged forward again. If anything, she was even more dangerous this time. Without her whip, she was using her claws a lot more. She was also showing off her agility now, flipping and twirling in ways that Peter often did. Perhaps Taskmaster had taught her some of his moves.
That was a disheartening thought.
In between it all, he began to wonder when his team would get here. Surely his communicator hadn't gotten completely fried, right? He was pretty sure it had handled worse shocks.
His spider sense abruptly went from a steady thrum to a shrieking siren. Yet he was already in the midst of stepping out of range of Black Cat's—
Something hard connected with the back of his head with an audible thwack. Definitely a concussion worthy blow in Peter's experience.
He crumpled forward, but he didn't pass out. Stars were in his eyes though, and, hey, was that Venus?
"Spider-Man," Taskmaster's deep voice spoke. "You have ruined my meeting. How did you know where I was?" To make sure Peter was listening, he stepped on his hand. Peter screamed, pulling it away.
"That was you, Tasky? I had no idea. Although now that I think about it, your bald head shines a lot like your skull mask."
"You're usually not alone. Where's your team hiding?"
"Cleverly hidden behind that lamp post down on the street. I'd run if I were you."
His spider sense clanged, but he was still dizzy from the first blow. Taskmaster kicked him in the side. Peter coughed as the air was forced out of him.
"You would think I'd know better by now," Taskmaster muttered.
"Yeah, you'd thin—" Peter was cut off as he received another blow, this time right in the gut.
Oh, how this would have gone so much differently if Peter hadn't already been softened up by the massive electric shock.
Actually, no, Taskmaster usually beat him up anyway. He was a formidable foe.
"Well, your team hasn't come out yet, so I'm assuming you're alone." Taskmaster paused thoughtfully. "This is a prime opportunity to finally take you in. I wonder how long it will take to break you into the perfect soldier."
Taskmaster reached down, but Peter rolled away. He managed to pull himself up into a crouch, watching the two of them warily. Taskmaster's skull mask looked particularly sinister tonight. Even Black Cat was stoic now. Black and white closed in on him.
Peter didn't have the breath to speak, but he did let out a particularly fearsome hiss. He even felt his fangs flex out.
Neither villain seemed deterred by that.
But a blast of yellow light threw them back.
"Back off, bozos!" Nova flew in, landing in front of Peter. "Got in a little over your head, huh, Web Head?"
"M—cough—maybe."
Iron Fist and Power Man came up on the other side of the roof. Taskmaster and Black Cat hastily avoided their attacks. White Tiger jumped into the chaos, trying to knock Taskmaster to the ground. Luke got in a particularly good blow against him. Peter quickly lost track of what was going on though. His head pounded painfully.
Either the abrupt onslaught was too much, or Taskmaster had somewhere else to be, because he started to run away much sooner than usual. Black Cat left in the opposite direction. Luke and Sam were about to give chase, but Ava called them off. Instead, they all gathered around Peter.
"Hi guys," Peter said meekly. "Uh . . . thanks for the save?"
"You have a lot of explaining to do," Ava said with a growl.
Peter sighed. "Yeah, I know. But I do have a really good explanation for all of this!"
"It better. You lied to me."
Peter grimaced. "I'm sorry, but I really can explain."
"Hey," Luke said as he approached the edge of the roof. "What's this?" He picked up the plastic bag from Finbar's. "Are these bugs?"
Peter's heart dropped. "There's an explanation for that too," he admitted. Then he tried a chuckle to lighten the mood. "I'm just full of explanations tonight, huh?"
"Great," Ava said, crossing her arms. "We can't wait to hear all of them."
