Author's notes: As dramatic as the cartoon series was (which episodes weren't?), I thought I'd write a slice of life one. Enjoy!
Summary: A day in the life for one of New York's diners. One shot.
Disclaimer: RubinaLadybug does not own Spider-Man: The Animated Series or any of its characters. Spider-Man: The Animated Series characters and plot belong to Stan Lee (R.I.P.), Steve Ditko (R.I.P.), FOX, and Marvel.
A Shift at The Coffee Bean
New York City was alive in the mid-1990s. Cars honked. Old hamburger wrappers and Styrofoam cups glided through the roads with the breeze. People crowded the sidewalks. They had places to go and people to meet. There were negotiations to be made and errands to run. No time to waste the sun's rays. Despite the high-priced rents, most residents chose an honest way of earning money. However, not everyone followed the laws.
A hero to the city was well familiar with scammers and thieves. Spider-Man nimbly tote himself over the massive buildings. Regardless of his prominent presence, hardly anyone paid attention to him. They were too busy reading newspapers, skimming through magazines, or staring at multiple TV screens available in shops.
"Another day of me being invisible," the web-slinger bemoaned. He swung himself and landed on top of a light pole. He had been swinging for miles without interruption. At his pit stop he heard gasps below him. People pointed in his direction. They seemed like a crowd shot in a Horror picture. Some even hurled insults towards him. He cast his webs to move along. "Great. And when I'm not invisible, I'm Public Enemy Number One. Even moldy cheese has better popularity than I."
While cracking jokes at his own expense, he was gallantly patrolling. He was anxious. His odd sense of humor assuaged some anxiety. Acting as a hero was a noble profession, and not knowing when terror would strike was unnerving.
"So far so good," he muttered. He barely saw a wall-clock in a bodega. "If action and adventure is lacking, I guess I can head out early to The Coffee Bean. But any slower than this and Jameson is gonna need to run a reprint of his contempt against his favorite guy Spider-Man. That's not exactly Pulitzer worthy—"
He heard shrieks below. He knew what that entailed. "Ah, right on time. Let's see what's causing this surprise."
He spotted a taxi zigzagging like wild. The yellow car swerved between the street and sidewalks. It narrowly missed innocent bystanders and vending boxes. The tires, however, did knock over water jugs and stacks of tied-up newspapers. At once the wall-crawler saw the danger. He understood he couldn't idly sit by. "Gotta put a stop to that taxi! That driver can't treat his vehicle like some wind-up toy on a plastic track!"
The hero leapt from the top. The wind brushed through his custom suit. He braced himself for impact and acceleration. He landed on the car's roof. Because of the vehicle's immense pace, Spider-Man bore trouble keeping balance. "This velocity is nuts. Looks like I'll need to create a blockade before a speed bump sends me flying like a launch pad."
Up ahead he shot his webs in between two light poles. He created enough to build an obstruction. With the oncoming thick webbing, the taxi swerved. The tires squealed. Spider-Man jumped off the roof to safety while the car slammed into the barricade. The smell of burnt rubber infected the air.
A clamoring crowd cautiously approached the hectic scene. Meanwhile the web-head valorously vaulted himself to the driver's side of the taxi. He tore the door open and pulled out the driver. "Hey! Don't you know speeding is illegal? I don't care what celebrity you were escorting to the JFK Airport—"
"It's not me!" the driver exclaimed. He wore a look of fear. His voice sounded alarm. His entire body was jittery. "It's my passenger!"
"A passenger ordering around a New York cabbie? A likely story—"
The rear doors to the cab flew open. Another man bolted from the backseat, attempting to escape. Covering his body was a dark ensemble. Ski cap included. He carried a pipe.
"Oh, I see," Spider-Man remarked. He released the driver and pursued the true criminal.
Unmistakably, the man fleeing was responsible for commanding the city-owned taxi. Fortunately, the hero didn't need to run far. He aimed and shot his webs. Those wrapped around the man's ankles. He fell to the ground. The pipe he held rolled out of reach.
"Not so tough without your wheels, huh?" Spider-Man jeered. "Or your pixie stick?"
The man glared at the web-head. His plan had been foiled. Before he could speak, the wall-crawler shot some webbing around his mouth.
"You have the right to remain silent," Spider-Man added. "It's best that you do. I can only imagine your breath would reek of stale coffee."
He wasn't alone for long. Police officers arrived in their cruisers. Lights flashed on top. Stepping out of their own vehicles, they carried guns. Their eyes fell on the man in the bright costume and the tumbled man on the ground. Many of them concluded the work the hero had done. Some, however, remained skeptical.
"Spider-Man! We got some questions for you!"
"Sorry, no time for autographs." The masked champion shot his webs and left the scene. He had a long journey ahead of him.
"I've got some people to meet at The Coffee Bean…."
The Coffee Bean was another diner in the bustling city. But this one held a little history. It was established in 1962. Surviving the decades, it was a popular hangout for college students. It was an excellent place to snag some coffee for cram sessions. Some came to grab a quick bite between classes. Others came to relax after stressful exams. And one of those students served as an employee. Elizabeth "Liz" Allan wore her white apron in the front of her purple shirt. A white hat covered the top of her blonde hair.
The cash register dinged. Plates, cups, napkins, and cutlery were removed and replaced. Tables were wiped down with sanitizing rags. As soon as one booth was cleared, another set of customers sat in place. That was the jelled routine in busy New York City. Liz had learn to accept her position. A popular girl in high school now had her hands in soapy water and touching dirty dishes. Her father, William Allan, owned The Avenue Diner's club. Business had been slipping downwards since she started attending Empire State University. She liked living on her own, so she took the job that paid the bills.
She was sweeping up discarded stirrers and lids when the bell above the door rang. Inside walked a stunning college student sporting red hair. She had on her usual yellow sweater, purple jeans, and brown boots. Diners who were sitting at the booths and bar turned their heads towards her. Her blue eyes crinkled in joy as she wore a smile of confidence.
"Hey, Liz," she boisterously greeted. She walked towards the counter. Being a regular, she easily navigated her way around the lobby. She was completely aware of the attention she was receiving from the other patrons. Yet she ignored them in place of a friend.
"Mary Jane," Liz smiled back. The two college students often walked together on Empire State University's campus. Liz stayed behind the counter and began using the coffee machine. The rich liquid poured into the round, clear pot with an orange rim.
"This place is as busy as always," Mary Jane remarked.
"You should've seen the morning rush. Everyone getting a coffee and bagel to go. Just about all of New York stopped by."
"No doubt to see the cafe's prettiest barista and it's most dazzling customer." Mary Jane placed herself against the counter. She gazed around. "All these charming men and yet not one I was expecting to see. I was planning on meeting Peter here."
The blonde cashier poured the freshly brewed coffee in a paper cup. She had witnessed the growing bond between her old classmate and her new college friend. Placing on a lid, she smiled, "Parker, huh? For your little love nest?"
"Nothing like that, Liz," the redhead laugh. "He was going to rehearse my upcoming play with me. My first rehearsal is coming soon, and I don't want to fumble any lines."
Gazing around the diner once more, she could see a certain brunet had yet to arrive. "And to think I was worried about being late. After my aerobics, packing my bag, and showering…"
Her smile faded. Waiting for people was a foreign concept to her. She loved being the one to make a late appearance, to keep up the anticipation and shine brightly upon entering her scene. She found it odd how she didn't want to make Peter linger. The realization was frightening. She was stepping away from companionship to something more intimate. The territory was too close to boyfriend.
Liz glanced at her friend. She noticed a change. Despite Peter and Mary Jane's distinct chemistry, there was a blockade between the two. It stemmed from both sides. One cause was obviously Peter enacting as a space case. But it was a different plight for the redhead. Before Liz could get in a word, the other woman's feminine wristwatch beeped. She recalled her schedule for the day.
"Gotta go!" Mary Jane announced. Her vivacious personality returned. "The theatre needs me!"
"I know," the blonde replied. She held a round serving tray. "I got your decaf to go and a bottle of water."
"Thanks, Liz. Gotta stay hydrated between rehearsals!"
The cashier watched her friend head out the door. Customers around her frowned at the sight of a charming student leaving. They pondered aloud what show Mary Jane would be a part of. Liz, however, couldn't help but wonder if the redhead was keeping something crucial to herself.
As the redhead left, another blonde shortly entered after. Her pink vest covered her white long sleeved blouse. She also wore an apricot-colored skirt and white heels. Her round earrings matched her footwear.
"Excuse me," she called to the server. She gave off regality but not enough to sound overly snobby. "I ordered take-out by phone. The name's Hardy."
"Oh, yes," Liz replied. "One turkey sandwich and one tuna salad. Dressing on the side. Utensils and napkins included."
She grabbed the plastic bag from behind and walked to the register. She punched in the correct items. The register dinged as it showed the final price.
Before Felicia approached the counter, she gazed around the diner. She spotted many customers. But none whom she was interested in. Of course some showed interest in her. Many were drawn to her alluring appearance. They seemed glad to have stopped by for some coffee and see a free show of gorgeous ladies. Felicia ignored the crowd as she searched for one particular person. "Hmm… I heard Parker sometimes comes here. I guess not today."
She sounded disappointed. But it wouldn't be the first time Peter had promised to be somewhere and shown up on his own schedule. Placing away her letdown, she pulled out her wallet. She handed over the green bills. "Keep the change as a tip."
"Thank you." Liz placed in the right amount for the invoice and pocketed the rest. She thought she heard the name "Parker." All that came to mind was the nerdy classmate who asked her out. Instead she had chosen a date with Flash Thompson, Midtown High and now Empire State University's prized quarterback. Having still contact with Peter, she had seen the young man he became. When Felicia left, Liz wondered what interest someone as fashionable and wealthy a Hardy had with Parker.
Reviewing the amount in her drawer, she noted she would be short on change. As she went to notify her manager, she recalled what it was like to have boys pine over her. Geeky boys like Peter to athletes like Flash. But after setting foot at Empire State University, she met true competition in the forms of Mary Jane Watson and Felicia Hardy. Liz found it odd both entrancing women had their eyes set on her nerdy classmate.
The bell above the door rang once more. The next to come in was a college student wearing an orange jacket, a green shirt, and faded jeans. He took a seat at an empty booth next to a large window. Removing his hefty backpack from his side, he lugged a heavy textbook. The bound pages thud when they hit the table. Across the cover the topic was science. Flipping through the pages filled with diagrams and figures, he appeared dowered. There was so much information to take in. It was hard to know where to start.
As Liz returned to the lobby, she found an empty booth now occupied. She observed the new customer's anguish. Many students dreaded their study sessions. Grades and graduating on time defined one's future career. But this student seemed to have something else burden him. He seemed like he had something heavy weighing on his shoulders. She glanced at his massive textbook. Most students took easier courses for their science and lab requirements. Only the smartest of students set foot in those lectures.
The young man checked his luxurious wristwatch. He was clearly waiting for someone. The text wasn't going to learn itself.
Liz carefully approached the newest customer. She had seen him on campus but never had the chance to talk to him alone. Harry always presented himself with a carefree attitude, yet here he appeared anxious and heavy-hearted. In a cafe populated with people, he seemed alone. Liz found herself giving sympathy. Ever since she moved out on her own, she learned to appreciate other people. She followed that passion as she was studying nursing. But at times she wondered if she should move over to the veterinarian degree. She would keep stray animals if her apartment lease allowed it. "Can I pour you a cup of coffee?"
Harry heard a gentle voice. He snapped out of his daze and looked at her. Her warm features carried blue eyes and blonde hair. She seemed familiar. Perhaps he had seen her around campus alongside Mary Jane and Flash (the latter Liz shortened her ties because of his immaturity). He replied, "Oh, sure."
He flipped over the mug. Once it was full, he inhaled the welcoming aroma. Seeing how they shared a social circle, he explained, "I came to meet Peter for some tutoring."
"Peter Parker?" Liz asked. This was the third time her classmate had been mentioned. And said classmate had yet to appear. She noted the young man nodding. She had no intention of sounding mean, but she decided to divulge a truth. "If it's Parker you want, you'll be waiting awhile."
"I can see that…" Harry chuckled. "If Pete didn't have his head already attached to his body…"
"He'd always be losing it," she filled in.
The two shared a smile.
The phone on the counter rang. Liz went to answer it, usually informing people about the cafe's hours and prices. She took another to-go order and relayed it to the cook. Returning to the now empty booth, she saw the amount of cash left on the tray. The tab was small, but the dollar amount was large. Undoubtedly, the rest had been left for a tip. As she cleared away the booth, she heard an important name.
"Was that Norman Osborn's kid?" another patron from a separate booth asked. "From OsCorp Industries?"
"Sure seemed like it," someone replied. "Sounds like he needs a little guidance in his studies."
A third one gruffly chimed in, "I don't care if his old man buys his grades or another person becomes head. So long as my stocks in the company stays afloat…"
Liz overheard the conversation. It was no wonder Harry appeared so dower. College was where students were looking to start their careers. The young Osborn already had his future set in stone. His own father cast a huge shadow over him. Looking back at her tip, her smile faded. She wondered if a wealthy heir like Harry would be interested in a working girl like herself.
The bell above the door rang once more. Inside burst a tall brunet. He wore a striped shirt and jeans. A backpack strap hung from his shoulder.
"Hey… Liz…" he huffed, almost sounding out of breath. Despite his rushed entrance, he hadn't drawn attention like the previous customers. His battle against the criminal took him opposite of his intended destination.
"Peter," the barista called. "I see you finally decided to show up to your appointments."
Looking around, Peter realized no one from his group was present. He smacked his forehead. In hopes of arriving early, he ended up coming late. He was supposed to run lines with Mary Jane Watson. He had hoped to get a glimpse of Felicia Hardy in between classes. He meant to tutor Harry Osborn in science. At least he managed to avoid his long-time bully Flash Thompson.
Liz studied him. Much had changed since graduating high school and attending college. She knew of his bookish leaning. She also perceived his lack of awareness for others. Once again, she broadcasted her two cents. "You're lucky you haven't exceeded your friends' patience. If you don't want to keep them waiting, Pedro, try wearing a wristwatch sometime. Your future wife will thank you."
Peter turned slightly embarrassed but waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, with my luck, it'll break on the job."
"Taking photos of Spider-Man for The Bugle. A very demanding walk of life."
"You don't know the half of it," the brunet mumbled as he took his seat.
Before Liz could answer, a costumer from across the diner called, "Miss! Another refill!"
Liz picked up the pot and resumed her duties. Both she and Peter had changed since high school. Both had accepted the responsibilities that came into their lives. One of them, anyway. She resumed her duties as the people of New York came and went. At least her shift was almost done.
Peter sat in the booth alone. Weary and annoyed, he placed his hand below his chin. He gazed outside the window. His eyes saw people passing. Meanwhile his mind was elsewhere.
"Why is it my work as Spider-Man always trounces my social life?" he thought to himself. "I know why I continue to wear my costume. I only hope Uncle Ben would be proud. I just wished this superhero pursuit would stop interfering with my personal life. Aunt May is already worried enough with my studies and my photography job. She wouldn't understand why her nephew had to take pictures of that 'horrible' Spider-Man."
He spotted the headline from the paper left behind by another patron." Though, I partially agree; I would love to no longer work for the windbag Jameson. I only took the gig to help out Aunt May and pay for some schooling. And I gotta say, my time at Empire State University greatly differs from good ol' Midtown High."
Around campus, he had learned a great deal for his degree. He enjoyed the labs, and his professors were brilliant. He had a golden future ahead of him. A minor plus was having some pretty classmates.
"Felicia Hardy… That's one gal I can't get off my mind. And she seems to be intrigued by me as well. Meanwhile, Mary Jane Watson… She's someone I'm trying to get together with thanks to some strings pulled by Aunt May. But I can't figure out the dance they're hashing out. At least it bothers Flash to no end that they're paying attention to the school's notorious wall-flower. As always I do what I can to dodge him. I don't need any more grief from him after our tussles in high school… It's weird, though, how he and I are sharing a gang.
"Never thought a jaunty guy like Harry Osborn and I would be on the same page. Sure hope I don't have to swing over to his place to make up his tutoring. At times our sessions get interrupted by Harry's father, Norman Osborn. The hair-raising owner of OsCorp always pays me for my 'troubles' by check. First time meeting him, my spider-sense went off the charts. I don't trust the man as far as I can throw him—and thanks to my spider-strength that's a good distance—but I said nothing. It's for the best, really. I only agreed to resume Harry's study sessions outside the Osborn manor. The further I'm away from Norman the better."
Thinking about his new life, a smile came to Peter's face.
"When I was a kid, what did I have to worry about? I stayed in my room alone to read comic books while avoiding the outdoors like the plague. But I had the support of my aunt and uncle. She may dislike Spider-Man, but I'm stuck being that wall-crawler. My love life is still the pits. But at least I can go to bed knowing I've done what's right. I'm sure not everyone in my gang will be mad at Peter for all eternity. I have this great responsibility. Even with the downside, my life has changed for the better."
The End