Chapter Text
Peter woke up to the sun filtering in through his open blinds, sleep naturally fading from his body as he took a moment to stretch. He inhaled and exhaled deeply to prepare himself for the day ahead then slowly turned to his bedside table where he saw the blinking red light of his alarm clock which read 08:00 which- shit.
Gone were the relaxed, leisurely movements of before as he quickly threw his bed sheet to the side and jumped out of bed to hop into the shower and get ready as quickly as he could.
Within fifteen minutes he was locking up his apartment whilst simultaneously trying to tighten the tie around his neck with his other hand and keep the Pop-Tart in his mouth- his very healthy to-go breakfast- from falling out.
Once he got the door locked he was about to run down the stairs but stopped in his tracks when he nearly collided with his elderly neighbor. “Mrs González! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He used one hand to take the Pop-Tart out of his mouth as the other went to steady the woman on her feet with a hand to her back.
“Peter, running late again are we?” She asked, her tone chastising.
“Would I be Peter Parker if I wasn’t?” Peter admitted sheepishly.
“That boss of yours is going to kill you,” she declared with a hearty laugh like the murder of her young neighbor was incredibly amusing to her.
“I know, so I really should get going. I’m so sorry again.”
“By the way Peter, thank you for fixing my computer. It works perfectly now, I can Skype my Anna and her girls. You know we were just speaking about her no-good husband the other day, they’ve been having some money problems and she was…”
Peter subtly looked down at the watch on his wrist, not wanting to seem rude as the elderly woman told him of her daughter’s marital troubles whilst remaining wary of the time and his impending murder at the hands of Michelle Jones if he didn’t get to the office before her.
“Anyway never mind all that, you probably don’t care-“ Mrs González’s spoke, bringing Peter’s attention back to her. “I will make you something to eat as a thank you. I’ll put it in a container for you to come and pick up whenever. I know how late that woman keeps you in the office.”
“Oh no, Mrs González. You really don’t need to do that,” Peter tried to protest.
“Nonsense Peter, with the hours you work you need a nice home cooked meal.”
The older woman was insistent and with Peter already running late he didn’t have the time to stay and go and back and forth with her, protesting whilst she insisted she cook for him until one of them lost, so in the end he had to relent, “Okay, Mrs González. Thank you so much. I really have to go though.” He leant down to give her a kiss on the cheek before he turned to run down the stairs.
“You be careful now!” she called after him.
He managed to make it to the local artisan coffee shop Michelle liked in record time. There was a Starbucks closer to their office he could have gone to which was way more convenient but Michelle complained about the enfranchisement of coffee and swore that Starbucks coffee was just overpriced shit. She preferred this café because they made fantastic, unpretentious coffee using Fairtrade coffee beans. To Peter, caffeine was caffeine but he wasn’t going to question it lest he incur her wrath; beyond the power she held over him employment-wise, she was also surprisingly physically threatening considering her lithe, lanky form.
As Peter ran into the coffee house, spurred on by his will to live, he saw a long line of locals waiting and he huffed in annoyance until Debra, the cute barista who he saw daily, called out to him. “Peter hey! C’mere,” she gestured for him to walk past the waiting customers and come up to the counter.
“Hi Deb,” Peter greeted with an easy, shy smile. He had to admit that Debra was beautiful in a girl next door type of way, with her sunny disposition, genuine ever-present smile and polite words. He may have even asked her out if he wasn’t already completely committed to Michelle Jones.
“Hey,” she greeted as she shyly tucked some hair behind her ear, the tip of which had gone a hue of red. “I got your usual ready for you- two lattes with oat milk.”
“Deb you’re an angel, one of these days I promise I will pay you back in kind,” he quickly grabbed the two coffees, placed a $20 bill on the counter and ran out before she had the time to respond.
After nearly getting run over by morning traffic approximately thirty times- he was not exaggerating, New Yorkers were cranky in the mornings- Peter managed to make it to the office about eight and a half minutes before Michelle was due to arrive so he took a moment to catch his breath as he turned to wave to his best friend Ned through the open door to his IT office.
Ned waved back to him with a child-like excitement like he did every day which instantly calmed Peter down and made him smile in turn, feeling readier to face the day and Michelle. He then quickly scrambled to Michelle’s office to get everything in order for her arrival.
“Morning boss,” Peter greeted when she arrived as he handed her coffee to her.
She didn’t acknowledge him as she walked around her desk to sit on the office chair as she always did so he carried on unperturbed, “You have a conference call in thirty minutes, the meeting with Forbes Under 30 at 3 and your immigration lawyer has called a few times and he says it’s really important that-“
“Cancel the call, push the Forbes meeting to tomorrow and keep the lawyer on the sheets,” Michelle interrupted as she busied herself with sorting through the various documents left on her desk.
Peter was walking out of her office when he was stopped in his tracks by Michelle, “Um, who is Deb? And why does she want me to call her?” Michelle asked, glancing down pointedly at the neat writing on the coffee cup that matched Debra’s personality.
Peter turned around, his eyes comically wide at her words. He cleared his throat, “Uh, that was- that was originally my cup.” He nervously fiddled with his tie.
“And I’m drinking your coffee…why?”
“Because I spilt your coffee.”
MJ simply nodded, intrigued, as she brought the coffee cup in question to her lips and took a sip, “So you drink lattes with oat milk as well, huh?”
“Yep, yeah, I totally do. I definitely wouldn’t like, order two of your specific coffee order just in case I accidentally spilt one given my penchant for getting into accidents on a semi-regular basis or anything like that because that would be really quite pa-“
Peter’s rambling was mercifully interrupted by the phone in Michelle’s office ringing so he quickly went over to answer it, “Morning, Miss Jones’ office. Oh- hey Flash,” Peter greeted trying to mask the disdain for the man on the other end on the line.
At the mention of that name Michelle made a vague gesture with her hand that he knew meant she needed to see him from years of working under her. “Actually Flash, we’re headed to your office right now. Yep,” he finalised as he hung up the phone.
“Why are we going to Flash’s office?” Peter asked confused.
Michelle offered no explanation and simply shrugged as she got out of her seat walking out of the office with Peter trailing behind her.
“Hey, uh, did you get the chance to look over the portfolio I sent over to you?” Peter’s voice was barely above a whisper with nerves.
Michelle continued walking slightly ahead of him, all his co-workers hurriedly looking down to pretend to work as she walked past their desks, “Peter I’m trying to keep a print newspaper afloat in the digital age. I don’t have the time.”
“I just, uh, y’know what- forget it.”
“Okay, let’s do this,” Michelle stepped into Flash’s office.
“Our fearless editor and her handmaid, please do come in,” Flash greeted with sarcasm dripping from his every word.
“How are you doing this fine morning, Flash?” Michelle asked with a put-on sweet, polite tone.
“Great actually, I went to that new bar on-“
“Yeah, listen Flash-" Michelle interjected before he could go on, no doubt ready to brag about how he'd gone to another exclusive VIP bar. "I’m letting you go from the publication,” Michelle cut to the chase no longer able to keep up the small talk.
“Uh- what?” Flash scrambled out of his seat.
“I asked you over a dozen times to convince that former Trump staffer to do an interview with us and you didn’t do it,” Michelle explained.
“I told you that was impossible, they’d never risk their livelihood by doing that,” Flash explained exasperatedly; he had been going back and forth with Michelle over this for the past few weeks since she’d suggested Flash do a sit-down interview with the source to boost readership.
“That’s interesting because one call was all it took for me to get them to agree.”
Peter remained silent in the corner, his eyes darting back and forth between the two as he followed the verbal brawl before him.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, you’re excused,” Michelle fired back. “Why as the editor am I having to do your job as well?”
“But-“ Flash tried to explain.
Michelle walked towards Flash so he was now looking up towards her, “I’ll give you two months to find another job then you can tell everyone you resigned. Okay?” Michelle pat Flash’s shoulder patronisingly before she walked out with Peter on her heels.
“What’s his 20?” Michelle asked Peter as they casually walked back to her office.
“He’s pacing a bit and now he’s- he’s coming out of his office. He looks real pissed.”
“Don’t do it Flash,” Michelle muttered to herself.
“You- you heinous bitch! You can’t fire me!” Flash said jogging up to catch up with Michelle and Peter, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “You sucked and fucked your way to being the youngest newspaper editor in the city now you think you have the authority to fire me just because you feel threatened by me?” Flash exploded.
Peter moved to take a nearby seat to watch all this unfold from the side-lines, Michelle was more than capable of handling this herself- especially given that it was Flash who was no worthy opponent in a verbal altercation against Michelle, or probably a physical one if it came to that.
“Flash-“ Michelle calmly tried to interrupt his tirade.
Flash simply carried on, making things worse for himself, “Just because you have no semblance of a life outside this paper, you think you can treat all of us like your little slaves. Well I feel sorry for you because you’re gonna have nothing and no one on your deathbed!”
“Aw Flash. I’m not firing you because I’m threatened by the connections your wealth has afforded you which you use to mask the sheer mediocrity of your writing. No. I’m firing you because you’re lazy, entitled and incompetent, keep up,” Michelle reached over to remove a stray piece of lint from the shoulder of Flash’s suit jacket to punctuate her patronising tone. “If you say another word, I’m gonna have Peter here get security to kindly escort you out.”
“Listen-“ Flash tried to defend himself.
“Security. Escort.” Michelle repeated, placing emphasis on each word to drive her threat home.
When Flash didn’t attempt to say anything else so Michelle turned to walk away, satisfied, with Peter trailing after her as per.
“Peter I need you on this weekend to help go through his files and articles he’s working on,” Michelle said turning back slightly to Peter who was struggling to keep up with her longer strides, back to business as usual as if she hadn’t just had an argument with a senior writer in front of a large proportion of the staff.
“Uh, this weekend?” Peter gulped nervously.
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
“Um, it’s just that it’s my aunt’s birthday and she’s like a mother to me so it’s-“ Michelle had already walked away from him before he could finish the rest of his explanation, leaving Peter stumped.
Once MJ was gone Peter went to settle on his desk and immediately dialled May’s number to explain the situation to her.
“He-hey May. What- what do you mean I sound nervous? I’m not nervous- what do you mean I have a “I have a bad news” tone?” Peter asked incredulously to his aunt on the other side of the phone. “Okay you got me, she wants me to work this weekend so I won’t be able to come on Saturday. I- know, I know. I’m really sorry but I’ll make it up to you, we can go to Shakespeare in the park the weekend after. May- no, no I’m not gonna quit, I’ve worked too hard and I could get that promotion any day-“ Peter immediately hung up, something he was sure he’d be hearing about next time he spoke to May, when he saw Michelle walking towards his desk.
“Was that your aunt?” Michelle asked, her tone disinterested.
“No, uh-“ Michelle gave Peter a disbelieving look seeing right through his lie so he decided to come clean, “ Yes. Yes, it was.”
“She tell you to quit?”
“Everyday,” Peter admitted quietly. “Anyway, Harrington and Morita want to see you upstairs by the way.”
MJ groaned at this, “Okay, fine. Meet me afterwards, we have lots of work to do.”
“Okie dokie,” Peter said with a small smile as he turned to get to the work at hand whilst Michelle went upstairs.
He managed to work uninterrupted for a maximum of about ten minutes before his phone started ringing incessantly until he picked it up to an irritated freelancer who was demanding to speak to the editor. Peter tried to placate the guy on the phone, reassuring him that she was in a meeting and would get back to him as soon as she was done but the guy was insistent and would not hang up until he spoke to Michelle and even threatened a lawsuit if he didn’t get the pay he was owed. At the words “lawsuit” Peter promptly went upstairs to Morita’s office to find Michelle.
He walked straight past Morita’s PA who was trying to stop him from going into the office and just barged into the office.
“We’re in the middle of a meeting here,” Morita told Peter in response to the intrusion.
“I know, I know but Miss Jones there’s a freelancer on the phone who’s threatening a lawsuit who wants to speak to you, he’s on hold. I tried to tell him you were in a meeting but he’s demanding that you speak to him right away so, uh, sorry,” Peter added sheepishly realising he’d just interrupted a meeting between three people who could all fire him on the spot.
There was a brief quiet moment where Peter stewed in his embarrassment before Michelle eyed him with a look. In all his years working for her he’d never seen that look before much less been on the receiving end of it so he couldn’t decipher what it could mean until Michelle spoke.
“Come here,” Michelle quietly mouthed to Peter, who nervously approached her side.
“Gentlemen, I understand the predicament we’re in but there’s something you should know,” she moved to stand right next to Peter. “We are- we are getting married. We’re getting married,” she declared awkwardly patting Peter’s chest.
Peters mouth hung open dumbfoundedly as he tried to process what was happening, “Who, who’s getting married?”
“You and I, we are getting married. Yes we are,” Michelle declared happily with a fake grin plastered on her face that looked like it was probably hurting her cheeks from how hard she was straining.
“We are getting married,” Peter and Michelle declared simultaneously, Peter’s tone that of complete confusion and shock whilst Michelle’s was a fake assured and happy one.
“Isn’t he you secretary?” Harrington asked with eyes narrowed.
“Assistant,” Peter corrected quietly.
“Executive assistant actually,” Michelle corrected at the same time. “But you know, we just spend so much time together we were bound to fall in love,” Michelle said with a fake giggle. “All those late nights at the office alone, y’know?” her tone was suggestive.
Peter stared ahead, mouth agape, speechless as Michelle continued to paint a picture of their non-existent love story.
“It was hard to not fall for this guy you know,” she awkwardly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “So are you, uh, happy with this? Because we’re really happy, obviously.”
“This is brilliant Michelle,” Morita congratulated. “Just make it legal,” he gestured to his own wedding band.
Michelle fake giggled again, which was fast becoming one of Peter’s least favorite sounds, he’d forever be haunted by the sound.
“Well we better head on to the immigration office so we can work all this out huh, babe?” she pat Peter’s cheek, her movements lacking all the gentleness to go with her fake sweet tone, it felt more like being slapped repeatedly.
“Thank you so much, gentlemen. We’ll sort all this out right away,” Michelle started to slowly back out of the office as she spoke so Peter followed suit.
“Gentlemen,” Peter bid farewell and followed after her.
He trailed after Michelle as they went back to the main floor where it seemed word of their supposed engagement had somehow already spread with people looking at the pair with curious eyes, mumbled words heard all across the floor.
Michelle simply ignored it as she carried on to her office but Peter couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as he walked behind her until he eventually escaped the intensity of their scrutiny when he joined her in her office, making sure to close the door and shut the blinds after her.
He stood opposite her desk in silence as he tried to process everything that had just happened in the last fifteen minutes. How had he gone from apologising to his aunt for yet another weekend missed with her because of his job to apparently being engaged to his hard-ass boss?
“What?” Michelle snapped when she noticed his wide-eyed stare directed at her.
“I don’t understand what just happened.”
“Relax Peter. This can be a mutually beneficial thing,” MJ had already opened up her laptop, furiously typing and seemingly not as affected by this as Peter was.
“Explain how?”
Michelle carried on with her work without missing a beat or looking up, “They were going to make Flash the editor.”
Peter narrowed his eyes in confusion, “So that means I have to marry you?”
“What?” Michelle snorted. “Where you saving yourself for someone special?” Michelle asked still not looking up at him.
“That’s generally how marriage works, yes. Besides, I’m pretty sure this is illegal.”
“They’re looking for terrorists and criminals, not newspaper editors. Relax Peter,” Michelle said with a laugh.
“Michelle.” Peter was anything but relaxed.
“Yes?”
“I’m not gonna marry you,” Peter declared, keeping his tone even to convey the finality of his words.
“Sure you are Pete, otherwise your dreams of somehow impacting the world and making a difference through your photography as a photojournalist are dead.” Michelle finally looked up at him with that threat.
She sighed deeply before continuing, “Look, if Flash gets my job he’ll fire you almost instantly meaning you’ll be out on the street and I’ll be back in Canada so you’ll have no one to give you a reference to get another job. But don’t worry, we can keep this marriage for the required amount of time for immigration then we can divorce but until then you’re now Peter Jones, now go on,” she gestured for him to leave with a dismissive wave of the hand.
After a silent moment where Peter stood frozen on the spot he finally spoke up, “Michelle Jones-Parker.”
“What?” she asked looking up, having not realised he was still even in her office.
“I’m not taking your name for this fake marriage.”
Michelle exhaled loudly at his words, “Double barrelling isn’t the worst thing in the world, I guess. Now scoot, you’re still my assistant and you have work to do.”
And with that Peter walked out of her office to try and get some work done even though he was still thinking about how he'd gotten himself in this situation.