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“Happy five year anniversary.”
The two clinked their wine glasses together with bright grins.
“God, it’s so nice to get out of the lab and have a nice normal dinner,” Peter said.
“Tell me about it. I’m surprised my organs haven’t shut down from all the Chinese takeout I’ve had the last couple of weeks,” Harley joked.
“You do love your Lo Mein.”
“How can I not?”
They both laughed.
Peter scanned the menu. “Ooh, can we get the charcuterie boa…”
“Where is Peter Parker?!”
Peter turned to Harley, a eerie calmness in his eyes. “Get under the table.”
“Peter…”
“Now. Get under the table now,” Peter said with a harsh force in his voice.
Harley, trembling, ducked under the table.
“You killed my wife,” the gunman said.
Peter wracked his brain over what the man meant. Did he know his other identity or…
“It was my nanodrones, right?” Peter said carefully.
“They said they were foolproof. That they’d save her life. Instead, it cut a hole in her throat and killed her before I even… before I even got the chance to… and it’s your fault!”
“Please, let’s talk about this…”
He raised his gun and pointed it to Peter’s head. The restaurant gasped. “I don’t need to fucking talk. I need you to die.”
“Let him go,” Harley demanded, standing up from under the table.
“Harley, what the fuck are you…”
“Shut up!” Harley turned back to the gunman. “You want an eye for an eye? Kill me. Take me instead. Peter’s nanodrones killed your wife? Well, I’m Peter’s husband. If you want him to feel the same pain you do, then kill me.”
“Harley, please,” Peter said, eyes welling with tears as he shook his head.
The gunman pointed his gun at Harley. “An eye for an eye?”
Harley nodded. “If you want Peter to know the grief you feel. To know what it’s like to have the love of his life ripped from his life without a goodbye, this is the way to do it.” Harley gave a knowing look to Peter, pressing his middle and ring finger to his palm and tapping his leg.
Peter, understanding, crept behind the gunman, and grabbed his gun, crushing it in his hand and tossing it as far as he could. He tackled the man to the ground, careful to not go overboard. He sent a precise punch to his jaw, merely knocking him out.
Heart pounding hard against his chest, he ran to Harley, pulling him into a tight embrace, not daring to let him go.
“I knew you would save me,” Harley whispered.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” Peter said with a light sob.
“I can’t make any promises.”