Spider-Man didn't end their search for Beck with the news of his apparent death.

With Corporal DeWolff's help, they searched the police database for all of Beck's known aliases, and while the police did have a pretty lengthy file on "Mysterio" and his rumored involvement with many crimes, they had no information tying him to Ludwig Beck. It appeared, from the outside at least, that Beck's arrest for burglary was an isolated incident.

They searched for other criminals with the name 'Beck' but Black Cat dismissed each and every one of them in turn. She was certain, solemnly so that the particular Beck in the late Ludwig's mugshot was indeed the man who they were after.

Spider-Man could only guess how she could be so sure and he had to resist poking and prodding with too many questions. He knew from experience that interrogating her would be a fruitless endeavor and only leave her feeling defensive and him frustrated.

It was like May sometimes said – at a certain point, you just have to trust people.

And Spider-Man trusted Black Cat more than just about anyone.

They left the NYPD headquarters and scoped out the address they had for Beck. The apartment they found though was vacant and dusty, with enough black splotches of mold to make their visit a short one. Still, Black Cat tore up a section of carpet while Spider-Man peeled off some of the wall paneling, hoping to find the entrance to a secret lair or something. No luck though.

Without much else to go on, they headed to a public library to continue their search on the internet (the night security was friendly with Spider-Man and opened a side door without too many questions, and even went so far as to start up a pot of coffee).

Ludwig Beck's obituary was online, but it was sparse, only saying that he was a man with a brilliantly creative mind, and that he was survived by his daughter, who was not named.

When Spider-Man asked Black Cat about Beck's daughter, Cat had admitted she didn't have much of any intel on her. Apparently 'being really good at research' had its limits. To be fair though, the police database didn't have anything on Beck's daughter either. It seemed records on the Beck family were few and far between and as the night wore on, their research broadened in scope and became steadily more and more desperate.

It was tempting to get discouraged after their initial lead turned out to be a total let down, but Spider-Man had been here before and knew the next clue could be only a single click away.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of searching, he looked up from his computer to find Black Cat lounging sideways across a rolling chair, spinning lazily as she rolled a paper cup between her hands. Her eyes were unfocused, staring off at nowhere in particular.

"You okay?" Spider-Man asked.

She shrugged.

"Yeah," She said. She was still looking away. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You seem distracted."

"Just thinking." Her chair spun slowly and she dragged the toe of her boot on the carpet until it stopped, facing him. "Disappointed, I guess."

"About Beck?" He watched her carefully as she considered. After a second, she gave the slightest of nods.

"No reason to be disappointed." Spider-Man assured her, turning back to his computer. "You got us an amazing lead. I think the thing to do now is to look into Beck's associates, if we can find them. Someone used his tech the other night, probably someone he worked with."

"Yeah... someone he worked with maybe."

"Either that or he faked his death. If Beck was as good an illusionist as his you say he was, it could have been easy. I wouldn't put it past him."

"True."

Spider-Man skimmed through several news articles on bank robberies, looking for anything that talked about robots or holograms or any of Mysterio's other trademarks that Black Cat had laid out for him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her drain the last of her coffee and toss it into a nearby trash bin.

"I gotta get going. I have an early morning." She grunted, climbing out of her chair. Suddenly, she was resting her arms on his shoulders, hands folded neatly at the back of his neck. She leaned over him so she could see the computer over his head. "Are you going to keep at it?"

Spider-Man glanced at the time. It was late, very late, and he had an early morning too. In just a few hours he was supposed to meet the rest of Professor Marconi's class for their tour of Oscorp Tower.

He could skip it, probably, but now that he thought about it… Beck used to work at Oscorp, supposedly. It was possible, slightly, that Doctor Connors might know something. He may have even worked with Beck.

Harry was going to be there too and Spider-Man was supposed to be keeping a close eye on him anyways in case there was another kidnapping attempt.

"No, I think I'll get going too." He closed his browsing session and craned his neck to look up into her glowing, yellow eyes. "Can you meet up tomorrow night? Same time?"

"It's a date." She agreed, this time showing a real smile.

And as her arms left his shoulders, exhaustion settled over Spider-Man like a weighted blanket and he was forced to fight back several yawns as they left the library together. They parted ways from a rooftop outside and he watched her silver hair flicker away as she bounded out of sight.

Things had been different since the night he'd died.

Temporarily, it was important to note, but still, a death all the same, and Cat was one of nine lives down because of it.

Ever since she'd brought him back she'd been more… reserved – more contemplative. Like in the library just now, he'd sometimes catch her staring off thoughtfully with a pinched look on her face and he'd have to shake her (sometimes physically) out of whatever mood she was in.

She'd gotten more affectionate too, but not in the way he would have thought. The half-lidded eyes and the teasing pokes and prods that pulled threads from his suit were all still there, but they were slightly less common. Recently, she was more likely to press her shoulder into his, or grab him by the wrist and squeeze, or stare at him when she thought he wasn't looking, her cat-like pupils blown large as moons.

He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it all. Spider-Man assumed it meant she cared about him, and probably worried about him more than before. He just wasn't sure how to put her worries at ease.

And he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted her stop either.

He was too tired to unpack those thoughts though as he slipped into his bedroom window and tugged off his suit. Regardless of how anyone felt, they both needed to be focused on finding out who sent that robot after Harry.

If not Ludwig or Mysterio, then who? Peter flopped face down onto his bed. Another angry former employee of Oscorp? There's no shortage of those, I bet.

As usual, Peter's thoughts were a swirling maelstrom as he shut his eyes, so he dreamed vividly - and when his alarm startled him awake, it felt like he hadn't slept at all.

He was going to be late, of course, because he'd forgotten to set his alarm properly and because it would require a cosmic shift in the universe for him to ever be on time for anything. With a groan, Peter slid out of bed.

The dress code for the Oscorp field-trip was supposed to be 'business-casual', whatever that meant. Professor Marconi had just told them to bring their best, since the trip wasn't only educational, but could also be used for professional networking.

When Peter had asked May what he should wear, she'd just told him "no jeans", and when he'd asked Harry, his friend had told him to rent a tuxedo – but he'd probably just been joking.

Probably.

There wasn't time to worry about it now though. Peter snatched up the cleanest, nicest clothes he could find, and lurched to the bathroom. He had to web-swing to Oscorp to make up for lost time, so several minutes later, he was staggering out a trash-strewn alleyway, wrestling fruitlessly with his necktie.

May hadn't been around that morning to help him tie the dammed thing, so he would have to figure it out on his own. He was so focused on the strip of fabric as he stepped onto the sidewalk, that he didn't notice the someone rushing down the path towards him until it was too late.

They collided with soft, simultaneous oofs, their ankles tangling with one another and sending them both tumbling. Peter reacted on instinct, wrapping his arm around the stranger's middle and twisting as he fell, taking on their combined weight as they crashed down onto the hard concrete.

"Peter!" The stranger gasped and it wasn't a stranger at all. Felicia was laying flat on top of him, both her palms resting on his chest.

There was a second where they both stared at each other, before she seemed to come to her senses and push herself up. "I'm so sorry."

"-t's kay." Peter said intelligently.

"I wasn't looking where I was going."

"M- me neither."

"Are you running late too?"

"Yes."

"Sorry." She said again, climbing to her feet. Now that she wasn't more-or-less straddling him, Peter felt like he could breath again, and he took a deep, steadying breath as she helped him to his feet. No sooner were they both upright then she was stooping again, picking his tie off the ground. "You dropped this."

It was an old thing – with red and blue stripes that alternated down to a slightly frayed tip. Peter had found it while sorting through Uncle Ben's things shortly after he'd died and had wavered between adding it to the donation pile or not. He'd eventually decided to keep it.

He took it from her and opened his mouth to say "thank you", but found that the words wouldn't come. He'd just gotten a good look at her for the first time.

Felicia was dressed in a sleeveless blouse, tucked into high-waisted pants. Completely black from head to toe, she somehow looked at the same time casual and classy and – there was no other word for it – cool. Two silver bars dangled from each ear, shimmering under the early morning sun and rendering Peter completely inert; he felt hypnotized by the twinkling lights.

"We should probably get going then?" She prompted lightly, a slight smile on her face. With immense effort, Peter forced himself to focus and managed a nod.

They set off together. It was less than a two minute walk to their destination, but Peter was hyper-aware of every second. Not only was he late for the field-trip, but he had essentially rugby-tackled Felicia on the way there, and now he was certain that she'd just caught him staring at her and drinking her in like a man dying of thirst.

It was blessed miracle that Felicia didn't comment on his lack of social skills. She never did.

"I forgot to set an alarm. What's your excuse?" She asked him instead.

"Also alarm." He admitted. "Mine was set though, just set wrong." He shot her a sideways glance. "Which do you think is worse? Like, in a general sense?"

"Between setting one wrong or not setting one at all?" Felicia considered. "Hard to say. It's too early for this kind of philosophy, Peter, I'll be honest."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just trying to think what I should tell Marconi."

Both Peter and Felicia had been late to their chemistry lab enough for each of them to get formal warnings. The last time, Professor Marconi had told both them she'd start docking their grades if they showed up late again.

It was frustrating, but nothing new. Peter's class on Tuesday morning was already subtracting points from his overall grade for tardiness, so he knew he could handle it by taking on some extra credit. He didn't want Felicia to have to deal with that though too.

"I told her last week that my alarm clock broke, so you can use that excuse." She said with confidence. "I'll tell her my bus was late today."

"Maybe we'll get lucky." Peter offered as they rounded the corner. "She might not even notice we're late."

She noticed.

"Thank you for volunteering to take notes on the tour, Felicia. We have a few class members that were unable to attend today and I think they'd find your notes very informative." Professor Marconi thrust a pad and pen roughly into Felicia's arms, then rounded on him. "And you, Peter, you can…. You can take photos to go with Felicia's notes." She decided firmly.

Peter didn't have a camera with him, besides his cell phone, of course. When he told her this, Professor Marconi produced a cheap digital camera from her bag and nearly threw it at him.

"We're really, really sorry we're late, Professor!" Peter tried. "But my alarm – and… and Felicia's bus-"

"I do not want to hear any excuses right now. You could have sent a message to me or Eddie and let us know you were coming – and you didn't. We waited nearly twenty minutes for you and now we're behind schedule. This is very disrespectful to the opportunity Oscorp's given us." Marconi had never looked so disappointed and Peter felt himself deflate under her gaze. She pointed to each of them in turn. "I want to see your notes and pictures before class on Wednesday, and if you have nothing to show, don't bother coming."

"P- professor-" Peter began again, because he felt foolish for not taking this more seriously before and because he couldn't stand her not knowing how truly sorry he was and-

A hand took him by the arm and squeezed, long nails digging ever so slightly into the soft skin over his wrist. Peter glanced down and realized with a lurch that the hand belonged to Felicia.

"We understand, Professor." She cut in, her voice clear and fittingly sober. "We won't let you down again."

Those simple words seemed to satisfy Marconi.

"Thank you." She said curtly, then before turning away, she added. "Put that tie on, Parker, and brush your hair. It looks like you just got off a roller-coaster."

The rest of the class were stood in a huddle in the shadow of Oscorp Tower, certainly close enough to have heard every word, and with more than a few of them staring openly. It was notable that none of them had been assigned to document the entire tour with notes or pictures.

Normally, Peter would have shrunk under all the attention, but Felicia's hand on his arm felt like a like a live wire pumping electricity straight into his spine, holding him straight. He wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"Sorry about that," Felicia murmured, releasing her hold on him. "But I those situations I find it's usually best to just agree and move on."

"Yeah." Peter agreed. "You're right. Thanks."

On the edge of the group of students was the odd pairing of Doctor Connors and Mary-Jane Watson, both of whom seemed to have been waiting for Marconi to finish her dressing down before making their move.

They made a b-line towards Peter and Felicia.

"Good to see you again, Peter." Doctor Connors greeted him with a handshake. "I was worried we'd have to start without you. Up late studying?"

MJ descended on Felicia and started talking animatedly in a hushed voice. Felicia met her intensity with a sharp hiss – apparently there had been an agreement between roommates to make sure they both woke up on time, which hadn't been upheld.

"Yeah, lots of homework." Peter agreed, tearing his eyes away from the two girls.

"Studious as always." Connors beamed. He clasped Peter's shoulder with his hand and started to steer him towards the front of his classmates. "But I'm so glad you could make it. You're not going to want to miss what I have planned for you today. After all… I think it's no exaggeration to say all of this is possible because of you… and a certain feline friend of ours."

Then he gave a very unsubtle wink that set Peter's cheeks burning almost as much as Felicia's touch had. Most of his classmates were still watching him closely, waiting to see if he was going to be the epicenter of another interesting scene, and as far as Peter was concerned, he'd already gotten his fair share of attention that day.

"Is Harry already inside?" He deflected, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, he is. After the attack on Saturday he's been assigned some extra security, which hopefully shouldn't be too disruptive. We'll be able to meet him in the lobby. Speaking of…" Connors pulled a pocket-watch from his coat and checked it. "We are very behind schedule. Time to get a move on, I think."

Leaving Peter at the front of his class, Doctor Connors bounded up the first couple of steps leading to Oscorp's front doors and then turned to face the group. Professor Marconi, who had been doing a final headcount, saw him motioning for her to bring the class forward and she quickly called everyone's attention. Together, the group traipsed up after Connors and filed into the tower's lobby.

As familiar with the foyer as he was, Peter was always impressed with the sumptuous and immaculate space. The floors and walls were glassy and sleek, sparsely decorated with intricate pieces of art that were shaped from curved metal and structural steel columns the color of emerald. A long reception desk, bent in a half-circle, sat in the very center of it all. No receptionist sat behind it though, instead there were a number of electronic kiosks that greeted visitors and checked them in and out of the tower.

A large sheet of glass that Peter knew was a two-way mirror dominated one wall and separated the lobby from the security booth. Oscorp's security staff was rarely seen, but always at the ready supposedly, which is why Peter wasn't surprised by the odd sensation of being watched as his gaze passed over the shimmering glass.

There were no other guests milling about the lobby, no delivery drivers or Oscorp employees either – which was very surprising. The normally bustling space was dead-silent. Instead, true to Doctor Connors's words, there was only Harry.

He stood near the twin elevators, flanked by a pair of burly men who wore suits and large, dark sunglasses. The men looked like mobsters you'd see in a crime movie. They stood as straight as the lobby's green pillars and were unnaturally expressionless. If it weren't for the way both their heads turned to track the class as they moved across the floor, Peter would have thought they were statues.

Connors brought them over to the elevators before turning to face them once more. He formally introduced himself before officially welcoming them to Oscorp Tower…

"Headquarters of the world's largest robotics and chemical manufacturing firm. Here you'll find a marriage between state-of-the-art laboratories and some of the greatest scientific minds in recorded history, working together to solve humanities toughest problems." Connors was beaming once more, but there was stiffness to it that led Peter to suspect this intro to Oscorp was, as usual, highly-scripted.

"Today it's my pleasure to be your guide through the one-hundred and three floors that make up this tower. Obviously, we won't be stopping at every floor, as our scientists are hard at work throughout the tower, but I think you will be very, very happy with what you'll get to see today."

His eyes met Peter's over the crowd and, not for the first time, Peter wondered just what the hell this special surprise he'd been teasing was. Out of everyone there, with the exceptions of Connors and Harry, he'd seen the most of Oscorp tower. He'd spent nearly every afternoon there the last couple of semesters as a lab intern, after all.

"Before we get started though, are there any questions?"

One of Peter's classmates raised their hand and Connors gave them a nod.

"Can I use the bathroom?"

"I- uh… Yes. Yes, you can. Restrooms are down that hall over there." Connors pointed across the lobby and it seemed quite a few students needed to go, because near half the group peeled off quickly. "But please hurry back! You need to collect a name tag and stow your phone at the reception desk! We are very behind on time!"

Harry worked his way through the remaining crowd over the Peter, his two guards following like hulking shadows. He wore his school bag across his back and was dressed impeccably in a crisp suit and also one of the deepest scowls Peter had ever seen on him, which was saying something.

"Hey." He sighed.

"Hi." Peter eyed him carefully. "You okay?"

"Peachy." He muttered. "Come on, you should get your name tag."

Peter noticed he wasn't wearing one, but he supposed that when your father owned the building, a name tag wasn't exactly necessary. They made their way to the reception desk, Harry's bodyguards a few paces behind. Their silent, watchful eyes made the hair on the back of Peter's neck stand up and Harry huffed when he asked about them.

"They were waiting for me here when Bernard dropped me off. My father sent them, apparently." He explained bitterly. "It's embarrassing. No one else has chaperons."

"Your dad's just worried."

"There's nothing to be worried about. We're literally in one of the most safe and secure buildings on the eastern seaboard. I'm sure Connors will tell you that on the tour though." Harry had a mocking lilt to his voice. "Oscorp Tower is like Fort Knox on drugs. It's not like a robot is going to come flying in and – what's so funny?"

Peter quickly schooled his facial expressions. He'd been unconsciously smiling to himself, thinking about Black Cat and remembering how just she'd recently broken into Oscorp and snuck the two of them into Connors's lab. She'd made it look easy.

"Nothing, just thinking." Peter cast the bodyguards a quick glance. "Maybe we can just ignore them?"

"Easier said than done. They're ten feet tall, dude."

A large plastic bin was sitting on top of the reception desk, clearly labeled as being for their cell phones. Peter hadn't anticipated this and apparently the rest of the class hadn't either. Liz Allen was already arguing with Professor Marconi nearby, who was firm with her answer:

"It'll be safe here, Miss Allen, I assure you. You will manage to survive without your phone for the day, I'm sure of it."

Peter had never had to hand over his phone when visiting the tower before. The additional security made him wonder if Connors really was planning something special, a top-secret surprise or something. A genuine feeling of excitement hit Peter at the thought and he put his cell phone in the bin with the others.

His regular phone, that is. The phone he used to text Black Cat would be staying safely folded in his back pocket.

The reception desk was also covered with pre-printed name badges and Peter found his quickly among his classmate's. His eyes lingered on Felicia's, which hadn't been claimed yet, and for a brief second he envisioned a universe where he took the badge and gave it to her himself.

He could say something funny about their mutual tardiness, and then they could spend the rest of the tour together – he taking pictures, while she took notes. He could even suggest they meet up afterwards to commiserate over Marconi's punishments and talk about how the tour had gone. They hadn't hung out since they finished their Chemistry project together. He missed the excuse to talk to her outside of class…

"Your back is covered with dirt."

Harry's words snapped Peter back to grim reality.

"What?" He turned, twisting his neck to see for himself. "For real?"

"Yeah. What happened to you?" Harry took to brushing away the dirt, while Peter brought him up to speed on everything that'd happened that morning. When he got to the part where he'd accidentally bumped into Felicia, a genuine laugh tore itself out of Harry, and Peter almost considered the whole ordeal worth it. "Only you, man. I swear to god." He barked, eyes watering with laughter. "Literally sweeping girls off their feet, so smooth."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." Talking about how he'd rubbed the back of his shirt on the sidewalk reminded him of something. He was still holding his crumpled necktie and he held it up to show it to Harry. "Do you know how to tie one of these?"

"Uh, no. Gwen does my ties. Ask Connors." Harry suggested. "Or Marconi."

Peter shook his head. He knew Doctor Connors used clip-on ties and he wasn't about to go ask Marconi for anything after getting on her bad-side so early in the day. He cast around for someone else who could help, but his options were severely limited. Most of his classmates were nice enough, but would probably give him a strange look for asking – Flash in particular would give him a hard time, for sure. He nearly resigned himself to spending the rest of the day beneath the dress code, but then he spotted Professor Marconi's teaching assistant.

"I'll ask Eddie." He decided.

Eddie Brock was only a year older than Peter, and yet he was already taking graduate-level courses thanks to an accelerated learning program at a prestigious Brooklyn prep-school. Peter remembered Eddie telling him about it once, and it had sounded extremely impressive, as well as extremely expensive, and ludicrously cutthroat where admissions were concerned. Eddie was smart and nice, but above all else – he knew how to tie a tie.

"There you go." He said, finishing the final loop and cinching it under Peter's collar. "Looking good, man."

"Thank you." Peter smiled gratefully. "How'd you learn to do that?"

"My dad showed me. That there is called a schoolboy knot." Eddie thumped him on the chest. "You can get a lot fancier than that though. There's tons of videos online that you can look up if you wanna learn. Did you bring a jacket?"

"I didn't." Glancing around again, Peter realized he was the only guy in his class without a blazer. "Frankly, I'm just happy I remembered pants." He sighed. "Do you think that'll be a problem?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. We're about to get started now anyways."

He was right. The class was finally getting organized as the last of the stragglers had returned to pick up their badges and leave their phones at the reception desk. Eddie led Peter back over to where Doctor Connors and Marconi were sweating bullets, attempting to wrangle the students into groups to shuttle up the elevators. Harry was squeezed in between his two bodyguards and sent up first, followed by the rest in groups of six or seven.

As Peter stepped into his elevator behind Eddie, Felicia, and MJ, he looked back into the lobby. Something about the vast space, now completely void of life, left him with an uneasy feeling. He frowned, struck with the sudden urge to step out of the lift before it started rising.

But then Felicia caught his eye. As if recognizing how on edge he was, she gave him the slightest of friendly smiles and, as quickly at it had come, Peter's brief moment of anxiety passed as the elevator doors closed.

Their first stop of the tour was Doctor Connors's personal bio-lab on the sixth floor.

Peter was already more than familiar with the place, but seeing all the pristine worktables and shiny lab equipment, never failed to lift his spirits. He hung back next to Harry though and used Marconi's camera to take some pictures of his classmates admiring (or pretending to admire) Oscorp's patented advanced electron microscope.

"She's gorgeous." Harry whispered by his side.

Peter was shocked. He'd never thought Harry would ever appreciate the wondrous mechanics that were required to achieve resolutions of 0.1 nanometers. He turned to look at him, but found that Harry's gaze was nowhere near pointed towards the microscope, but instead across the room to where MJ stood.

"Mary-Jane?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, of course. Obviously." Harry had a shimmering quality to his eyes that Peter wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. "I didn't know they made girls like that in Queens. How come you never told me you grew up down the street from a literal super model?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Peter felt compelled to try anyway.

"I – uh, I don't know. I barely saw her. We never talked." He explained. "Also we were, like, twelve. I honestly forgot who she was until this weekend."

"How do you forget a girl like that?" Harry breathed.

High-school, radioactive spider-bite, Uncle Ben...

Peter shrugged.

"I dunno. Time passes, I guess."

"But you admit she's hot right?" Harry pressed.

"Why does it matter what I think?"

"It matters because you have two eyes connected to a beating heart and I want to make sure I'm not going crazy here." Harry looked at him seriously. "I want to introduce her to my father."

Peter couldn't help but laugh.

"Harry… I feel like you're getting ahead of yourself." He chuckled. "Unless you guys got real close under that table this weekend, maybe you should get to know her better first."

"We do know each other! We're… we're, um… bonded!" Harry exclaimed. "We're bonded by… by mutual trauma!"

True as that may be, it was patently obvious to Peter that Harry wasn't interested in just emotionally processing the robot attack with MJ for the benefit of their mental health.

"I feel like you should ask her out on a date first before you bring your dad into the picture."

"No, no. You don't get it. This is my father we're talking about here. He won't let me go out with anyone he doesn't approve of first." With a kind of feverish desperation, Harry seized Peter by the elbow, holding him still so he could face him fully. "Pretend you're my father for second. What would you say if I brought MJ to you?"

"I- I couldn't even begin-"

"Just try, get into character, put yourself in his shoes for a second."

"I don't want to be your dad." Peter argued.

"That's perfect!" Harry grinned. "Use that energy."

Shaking his head, Peter decided to switch gears.

"Listen, MJ is cool, and your dad is a smart guy. If you just tell him how nice and funny she is, then I'm sure he'll give you his blessing." He said, then after a moment's thought, he added: "But you should probably ask for her number first, at the very least."

"Oh, right." Harry drawled. "I'll get her to write her number on some pink paper in red ink and I'll carry it around with me everywhere and kiss it before bed every night. Just like you when you got Felicia's phone number."

Peter felt his face ignite once more.

"I- I do not kiss. I didn't… I don't even have that paper any more!"

He did.

"Fine, fine. Forget all that. Forget about phone numbers. I honestly can't believe you're still hung up on Felicia at all. I mean, she's nice and all, but look at them," He gestured wildly to the two girls across the lab and MJ glanced over, her eyes seemingly drawn to the motion. "There's no competition."

Peter frowned.

"I'm not sure they'd appreciate you comparing the two of them at all." He pointed out, a touch annoyed that Harry could be entertaining such shallow thoughts. "They're people. Not items on a menu."

"Can't help but disagree with you, my dude. MJ's looking like a whole meal in that dress. Honestly."

"Real nice. You should tell her that. I'd bet that'll get her to like you for sure." Peter said dryly.

And really, MJ and Felicia – like most people – are totally impossible to compare with any concrete metrics anyways. Peter reasoned scientifically. They're different in every way.

Personality-wise, it couldn't be more obvious. Felicia was never one to mince words and from the few times Peter had spoken to MJ, it was apparent she liked to talk as if she had unlimited time and limitless lung-capacity. She demanded attention and seemed eager to leap into center stage whenever the opportunity came. Felicia, on the other hand, was more than happy to lounge in the back row and watch things play out from a distance. Felicia was frustratingly inscrutable at times and could be rather cold, while MJ was an open book – no, a firework.

Peter glanced over at the pair again. They certainly looked different too.

MJ's hair was long and wavy and fiery-red, and Felicia's was close-cropped and dark. Felicia was also very slender and lean, where MJ was short, with many, many curves...

With a jolt, Peter realized that his thoughts had gotten away from him.

Well… so much for not comparing them.

He shot another glance at the girls, but MJ had vanished, leaving Felicia alone. He watched her for a moment as she scribbled on her notepad. She had a habit of sticking the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her lips when she focused.

The shallow, hypocritical part of Peter's own brain couldn't help but agree with Harry on one thing – as far as Peter was concerned, there really was no competition.

Harry was talking again though and Peter latched onto his words quickly to distract himself from his guilty thoughts.

"Forget about whatever weird thing you have with Felicia." He was saying. "Let's get back to to the real issue here. What I'm talking about here is more than just a crush. I'm talking about-"

"Somebody has a crush?"

Both Peter and Harry flinched as a new voice cut in and the rubber feet on the end of Harry's crutches lost all purchase on the lab floor, sending him stumbling. He would have fallen if Peter hadn't grabbed one arm and if MJ, of all people, grabbed the other.

Like a shadow, she'd somehow crept up on them while they were talking.

"Who has a crush?" She interrogated as soon as Harry was upright again. Poor Harry was white as a sheet, his mouth agape with terror. No doubt he was thinking exactly what Peter was – how much had she heard?

"Who has the crush?" MJ demanded again, looking sharply between the two of them.

"No one!" Peter puffed, while at the exact same time Harry let out a flustered:

"Peter does!"

The look that MJ gave him could only be likened to that of a young child waking up on Christmas morning to find a tree replete with colorful gifts.

"Peter Benjamin Parker." She said, each syllable of his full name landing like the beat of a drum. "Who do you have a crush on?"

"No one." Peter said.

"Felicia." Harry said.

Both MJ and Peter let out strangled noises of surprise and Professor Marconi fired a harsh ssshhhhh in their direction from halfway across the lab. To his credit, Harry seemed to realize his mistake as soon as Felicia's name had left his mouth. He gave Peter an apologetic look, but Peter missed it completely. He was too busy trying to wrangle MJ, who had just suddenly taken to bouncing from foot to foot in glee, her heels clacking loudly on the laboratory floor.

"Stop, stop, stop. It's just a joke. Harry's joking." He tried. Whether or not she could hear him, he couldn't tell. A high-pitched eeeeee sound was emanating from her. "Mary-Jane please. I do not have a crush on Felicia."

Those words seemed to get through to her, because she countered quickly.

"You do though." She sang, poking him hard in the chest. "It's all over your face – you're so red. Oh, this is so good. I can't believe it! Gah!" With a final shake, MJ suddenly regained her composure, even going so far as to wipe her hand across her face, replacing her grin with a grim expression. "Okay, but seriously though. Real talk: this is great. When are you going to ask her out?"

"I'm not."

Her expression darkened.

"What do you mean 'you're not'?"

"I- I… I mean." Peter glanced to Harry, but he was no help. He seemed glad to just have deflected the attention away from himself.

Peter sighed eventually. "Felicia would never want to date me."

He had never said it aloud before, but he'd thought it plenty of times. As nice as Felicia was to him, Peter couldn't fathom a reality where she returned his feelings. He also enjoyed being her lab partner and her friend too much to risk it all by making things awkward when she inevitably turned him down. He'd resolved to be content with liking her from a distance, and keeping his crush a quiet, private thing… except for Harry, of course. And, well, May knew too.

And so did Mary-Jane.

"You don't know that." She said. "I've been trying to get Felicia out of her shell for a while and a date is exactly what she needs. A real date, not whatever BS she feeds me about some co-worker." She reached up and gripped him by each shoulder. "Peter, I'm her roommate. I can be your wing-man on this, and together, we're going to help you get the girl of your dreams."

"She's right, man." Harry dared to add. "MJ can help you finally make a move. I'll help too."

"I'd rather you both didn't, honestly." Peter said, gently extricating himself from MJ's grip. "I don't want to do anything to make her uncomfortable."

"Felicia already likes you." MJ sighed exasperatedly, her eyes rolling at his resistance.

"She- she does?"

"Yes! You dummy. She thinks you're sweet, funny, and smart." She counted off on her fingers. "She's told me all of that and more. She likes you a lot, Peter. We've just got to find the right opportunity to seal the deal." MJ leaned in conspiratorially. "Wait five minutes and then meet me over there. I have a plan."

And with that, she whisked away, her crimson hair swaying in her wake. Peter allowed Harry a full three seconds of uninterrupted leering after her, before he folded his arms and coughed loudly.

Harry turned and give him a sheepish grin.

"Before you say anything. I think you should seriously consider the positives here." He raised a placating hand. "You have a real chance with Felicia now."

"Maybe." Peter wasn't so sure. He was getting that uneasy feeling again, the kind that had been nagging at him all morning. "I guess I'll find out."

"I'm here for your, Pete." Harry said, then abruptly whirled on his two guards, who had been standing silently a step away the whole time. "Unlike you two. Load of help you were. MJ walked right up to me! What if she'd been a killer?!"

The men stared down at Harry with blank expressions. They had nothing to say for themselves, it seemed.

Felicia knew something weird was going on the instant MJ slid up to her side.

"What is it?" Felicia asked, not looking up from her notepad. She'd been trying to listen and absorb Doctor Connors's soliloquy on his refrigerated ultracentrifuge as she took notes, but it was proving easier said than done. She was so, so tired and had to keep pausing to yawn every minute or so.

"Hmmm 'it'? What do you mean? There's no 'it'." MJ huffed. "Why does there have to be an 'it'?"

Felicia spared her a critical look.

"Okay, here's the 'it'." MJ acquiesced. "You know how you're always talking about how you want to get more involved with extracurricular activities and show your appreciation for the university?"

"I've never once said that."

"Well, today's your lucky day! I need help writing this article about Oscorp for the Gazette." MJ explained, clutching her notebook to her chest. "I just can't focus at all this morning and I just know whatever I try to write is going to be absolutely terrible, so I need whatever it is you're writing."

"I have basically nothing so far." Felicia said, showing her the sparse scribbles on her pad, but MJ didn't so much as glance at it.

"The day is still young! I'm sure by lunch time you'll have more written than I need and – oh!" She clapped her hands to her cheeks. "I just thought of something. Peter can help! He's taking photos. If you two can get together and coordinate your writing with his pictures, then I can put it all together and we'll have a winning article on our hands!"

"I'm terrible at writing." It was true. Her last essay for her political science class had come back slashed with so many red marks, it looked like it'd been murdered. "Why don't you just work with Peter?"

She looked across the lab to where Peter was standing. Their eyes met and he gave a spectacular lurch, turning away quickly and fumbling the camera he was holding so it fell and clattered loudly on the lab floor. The battery compartment popped open, sending AA's skittering everywhere. Doctor Connors's paused briefly mid-lecture, as he and the rest of the class turned to look at the noise, but Marconi quickly called their attention back with a razor-like cough.

Felicia couldn't help but smile to herself as Doctor Connors took up his spiel again. Oh how recently she'd been in this exact lab with Peter, watching as he waltzed his way confidently between the worktables, making a cure for Vermin's disease – not that he'd ever know she'd been there.

"I- I can't work with Peter." MJ said lowly. "At least... not without you."

"Why not?"

"Because… because he…" MJ chewed her lip and then, glancing away, leaned in close to whisper. "Have you ever noticed how hot he is?"

Felicia blinked.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"I… No."

MJ gasped.

"How could you not? I mean just look at him." She directed Felicia's attention to where Peter was on his hands and knees, trying to fish a loose camera battery out from under a table. "Objectively, he's… like a total ten, right?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend."

"What? Who?"

"That guy from your economics class."

"Steve? Ugh, no. That was – ugh, just no." She crossed her arms in front of her, an 'x' to ward off memories of boyfriends past. "But that doesn't matter anyways because boyfriend or no boyfriend, you can't deny a great looking guy when you see one, amirite?"

Felicia didn't know what to say.

She understood MJ wasn't exactly… selective when it came to dating partners, but Felicia could not have possibly guessed, not in a million years, that she would have set her sights on Peter Parker of all people. Although, now that she thought about it, MJ could certainly do a lot worse. Peter was nice and insanely smart, and he'd barely balked when Black Cat had shown up outside his window that night and taken him out across the rooftops.

She was his lab partner. He'd helped her and Spider-Man stop Vermin. She'd seen him in his underwear.

"My god, is that a blush I see?" MJ was brazen enough to poke her cheek with the tip of her finger. Felicia resisted the sudden urge to snap at her. "So you agree then?"

Felicia was simply poorly equipped to answer right away. MJ's sudden interest in Peter had hit her like a truck.

She was torn. As much as Felicia liked MJ, she knew from experience that her relationships tended to end as fast as they started, and more often than not – explosively. If MJ dated Peter, would Felicia inevitably be caught in the middle of an awkward breakup? Would she be asked to pick a side between her lab-partner and her roommate? Felicia had never been in a situation like this before, she'd never really had people that could put her in this dilemma until now.

MJ was still looking at her expectantly. An unexplained smugness to her expression that made Felicia feel like she was missing some piece of this puzzle.

But there wasn't time to parse any of that. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Peter shuffling towards them warily, his camera and its batteries reassembled, and Felicia quickly decided her best course of action was to keep things simple:

"Do whatever you want." She muttered as Peter neared. "I'll help you write your article, ok?"

Before MJ could reply, Peter was there, and her attention was instantly diverted to him – much to Felicia's relief. MJ ran through a mildly different explanation for why she needed both his and Felicia's help to write her article – something she apparently needed so desperately for them both to work on – and Felicia was somewhat pleased to see that Peter was as equally confused by the request as she was. He still quickly agreed, nonetheless.

It was a mistake though, because now that Peter was there, Felicia was easily twice as distracted as she had been before.

It felt like Doctor Connors was talking from a mile away, and as he moved on to recount the stunning tale of how his cure for Vermin's plague came to him like a dream, Felicia found herself barely paying attention at all. Every small interaction between Peter and MJ seemed to be filled with a hundred different layers of subtext that Felicia had never noticed before.

Like the way his eyes followed the errant motions of her hands as she talked animatedly, how she smiled broadly at a kind commend he made, every one of her brilliant white teeth shining in the bright laboratory lights.

Felicia didn't know what to make of any of it and she definitely didn't know why she was noticing it as much. Now that the initial shock was wearing off - what did it matter to her if MJ and Peter dated? If they crashed and burned, sure, things may get awkward, but Felicia would deal with it. She had way, waayyy bigger things to worry about than her friend's love lives.

And yet, a lingering question tickled at the back of her skull like a loose strand on a sweater…

Oh god. Is Peter hot?

With great stealth, Felicia considered him out of the corner of her eye, fully appraising him the very first time.

Well… he wasn't ugly.

His nose had a distinct crookedness to it, as if it had been broken before and healed poorly, and one of his front incisors had a small chip knocked out of it. Those were nitpicks though and as accident-prone as Peter was, he was probably lucky that was the worst of it. The rest of his teeth were thoroughly stained from coffee though and his hair was messy and his clothes were winkled, but still… Peter had kind, brown eyes and a sharp jaw and boyish, dimpled cheeks that showed up whenever he smiled, which was quite often.

No, definitely not unpleasant to look at. She could see why MJ would like him.

Maybe just not Felicia's type though.

What is your type? Her brain asked, and then answered: Brave, selfless, faceless, red and blue and bloodied and bruised all over…

Peter's gaze met hers again and he flinched as if electrocuted. In the months since Felicia had first taken that lab seat next to him, she had yet to understand what it was about her that intimidated him so much. She gave him what she hoped was a warm smile, but that only seemed to make things worse. He turned quickly away and raised his camera to snap a picture of the closest wall. It was lined with glass terrariums, home to various reptiles and spiders and other crawly things.

It probably would have made for an interesting picture if he wasn't holding his camera upside-down.

Next to her, MJ let out a quiet groan.

After finishing up the tour of his bio-lab, Doctor Connors led the class back to the elevators and up six floors to their next stop on their exciting adventure – the chem-lab.

As for what made this lab different from the previous, it wasn't readily apparent to Felicia, but Doctor Connors was quick to explain that no animal testing occurred on this floor and instead of medicinal research, chemical compounds were experimented with in search of new types of fuel, binding advents, lubricant, and even cosmetics.

To illustrate, Doctor Connors brought everyone's attention to a small table, which had been set up with a selection of Oscorp merchandise. Small tubs of hair product and tubes of lotion were passed around as samples and Flash wasted no time scooping a fat glob of gel into his hand and chasing Liz around the room with it as she squealed.

One lotion sample was passed to Felicia and she gave it a cautious sniff. It was flowery and a little cloying, not what she'd usually go for, but then again, her hands were pretty dry that morning and the lotion did look soothing despite the smell. She was considering the tube when suddenly MJ was at her side again.

"This is perfect!" She declared. "Peter, come help Felicia with this!"

She then proceeded to steal the tube and turned, snatching a befuddled Peter by the wrist. With precise movements, she held him steady as she supplied an extremely generous amount of lotion – nearly the entire sample – into his palm.

"What the-" He began, but anything else he was about to say was completely forgotten when MJ pulled him around and slapped his slick hand against Felicia's.

Felicia was too stunned to react and Peter was equally frozen. There was a brief second where no one did anything except stare down at the gooey mess where the pair's hands met.

MJ, for the first time that Felicia could ever remember, suddenly looked awkward herself. The light in her eyes dimmed slightly as she seemed to reconsider what she'd done.

"I- I uh..." She coughed into her hand. "I'm always having to remind Felicia that she needs to... moisturize... and take better care of her skin, you know, with her complexion? And you, Peter, you have such soft hands – show her how it's done!"

Felicia shot her a glare and MJ had the grace to look a little ashamed. Whatever scheme she was attempting to pull here where she embarrassed her and Peter, it had better be worth it.

"Ugh. Here." Felicia sighed, taking Peter's other hand in hers and bringing them together. With careful, slow strokes – so not to drip too much on the lab floor – she attempted to distribute the lotion evenly between the two of them. Peter's hands were large, with wide palms and long digits that trembled slightly as she ran her own fingers over his, but even between the two of them, there was still way, waayy to much lotion left.

They needed more hands.

She looked up, about to get MJ to join in (maybe that had been her plan all along), but then she caught sight of Peter's face.

His face was flushed crimson and he was transfixed, staring at where their hands were joined with a curious look on his face. It was his reaction to this mess that made Felicia suddenly aware of what exactly was happening in that moment.

She looked down again. They were standing, facing each other, and holding hands.

Felicia could recall each and every time she had ever held anyone's hand before. It was something she typically tried to avoid at any and all cost, as a matter of fact.

Grabbing Peter had been an instinctual thing; she hadn't even thought about it – and that was weird, it was all very, very weird because Felicia was now just registering that touching him wasn't necessarily an unpleasant experience. The needle-like tingles that she felt whenever she had the misfortune of just brushing up against someone were completely absent.

As an experiment, she gripped Peter's hands tightly in hers and he sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze snapping up to meet hers. She stared back at him, studying, her mind racing, and he met her scrutiny with wide eyes.

"Uh… are you two good?" It was Marconi's teacher's assistant, Eddie. He had appeared next to MJ and was looking just about as confused as Felicia felt. Apparently the little scene playing out here hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of the tour.

Peter swallowed thickly.

"Y- yeah. We're just… just, ah." He rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles. "Felicia, are you okay?"

With a gross squelching noise, she finally pulled her hands from his. Fat drops of lotion fell to splatter on the tips of her nicest boots.

"I'm fine." She said, holding her greasy hands aloft. She turned to MJ and Eddie "Could use a little help here though."

Eddie chuckled.

"Sure." He said, stepping forward to scrape some of the paste out off her palms. "Don't mind if I do."

MJ took some too and together, she and Eddie were able to use up the rest of the lotion. Nice as it was to have the mess gone, it was impossible not to notice – Felicia couldn't bear to touch either of them for longer than a few seconds.