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Peter was having a bad day.
He had woken up late, missed his breakfast with May which had earned him worried texts and a call that had gotten him up a lot faster than his alarms had. At work Jameson had pulled him into his office to deliver the news that the shots they’d sent in as submissions for awards season hadn’t made the shortlists.
It was what he was expecting, but it still hurt. More so since Jameson seemed genuinely disappointed as he delivered the news like he had really believed they had a chance.
Maybe because as much as he was an ass, Jonah admired hard work. Sometimes, on occasion, Peter did just that.
He'd used his lunch break to distract himself from thinking too much about why the news had left a pit in his stomach by swinging through the city. Searching for trouble to keep busy.
It wasn’t as though The Bugle or photography were his end goal. It was an interim thing while he finished up grad school. It was a hobby that he’d made work for him. It was all a big joke – working for the guy who ranted about his alter ego’s actions was funny. It brought a bit of levity to his day. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t made the cut amongst New York’s ‘best photographers’. He had never been trying to. It shouldn’t matter.
Strangely that line of thinking hadn’t made him feel nearly as good as swinging in to disrupt a robbery had. The satisfaction temporarily subsiding the disappointment until it was replaced by a feeling much harder to ignore – hunger.
Figuring that he was going to be late back to the office either way, Peter decided to head a little further out to his favourite coffee shop. It was a small independent place that claimed to have ‘humble beginnings as a cart in Central Park’, but if he was honest Peter liked it because he’d dated one of the baristas a few months ago. He hadn’t liked how flighty Peter could be, wanting to keep things casual.
Peter had quickly learnt that ‘casual’ wasn’t really his sort of thing. They’d split amicably enough that Louis still sized up his order free of charge every time he went in.
Sadly, as he took his place in line, peering over the people in front of him, Louis wasn’t in today.
With a heavy sigh he dropped back down, beginning to aimlessly scan around the store until he caught sight of a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. A small girl, only a toddler, stood with who he presumed was her mom, waiting for their drinks.
She was cute. Really cute. Tight ringlet curls framing her face and a pink bow keeping them away from her eyes that were still locked on Peter. Her head was resting against the woman's hip and she looked the picture of innocence as she pointed one of her feet out to show off her shoe – a tiny ballet flat.
Peter grinned, watching as the girl dropped her gaze to her shoe and then back to him as if asking him to comment on it.
He gave her a thumbs up and a pleased nod. She seemed to appreciate the silent compliment and relaxed back into her mom. The girl didn’t stop watching him though, their silent conversation making her more curious about him apparently.
He pursed his lips and then stuck his own foot out just a little, pointed at the toe to show off the ratty chucks he should probably think about throwing out with out much the rubber had thinned on the soles. They hadn’t broken yet so he was clinging on to them for dear life.
In the back of his mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Tony’s reminded him that he wouldn’t need to be so hesitant with buying himself things if he let his pride go and accepted the job that had been dangling in front of him since he’d graduated college.
The girl wrinkled her nose at him, most likely at his shoe, but he decided that with her intense gaze she’d probably learnt to read his mind and was agreeing with his choices thus far to make his own way.
Peter snorted and stood back up straight. Her response was fair given how dirty his shoes were. As she got older she’d understand that grime and fading designs were just part of living in the city. She’d probably keep the ballet shoes in a separate bag, wear some old trainers into her classes like May had back when ‘she was forced to be corporate’ in the early days of Peter’s life and had to wear heels at the office, always leaving and returning home in her sneakers.
She continued to stare him down, finding something fascinating about his face to the point that Peter wondered if he did have something there. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d left the apartment with toothpaste on his chin or managed to miss soot that had slipped under his mask.
He brought his hand up to wipe at the corners of his mouth and chin, but the girl continued to stare, only changing her expression to squint at him as he moved.
Deciding that there was nothing there, he tilted his head, trying to figure out what it was she wanted him to do. It always felt easier in the suit, the bright red and blue enough to keep their attention, sometimes they wanted to trace the webbed lines up his arm and it’d be distraction enough to ask them about their day, get them to tell him where their parents might be or calm them down if they’d been close to any kind of action. Older kids usually wanted him to do some sort of stunt or to excitedly ask him questions. He always tried to take the time to listen, sometimes having to promise that he’d loop around, but he’d find away.
Even when they had criticisms about his work or his suit, telling him that they liked this or that hero better but he was still good, he always thought they were handled with a little more tact than the likes of Jameson, their brutal honesty coming from a place of innocence and earnestness rather than reminding him of his failures.
Out of the suit, Peter was just a guy. There wasn't anything interesting enough about him and he couldn’t figure what might make the little girl so curious.
She continued to stare and Peter tilted his head back the opposite direction, repeating the motion again the other way.
It earned him the smallest of smiles from her.
Ah.
She wanted silly.
He swung around the city from a string in a blue and red costume. By this point, he had probably fought a whole zoo’s worth of animal themed foes. He could do silly.
He stuck his tongue out and pulled a few faces until the girl was giggling. She mimicked him a few times, getting a soft ‘aw’ from the person behind him as they caught sight of what she was doing.
Her mom was finally called up to the counter to collect her order, starting to move the girl out of Peter’s sight after she’d grabbed their drinks. He gave her a little wave to say goodbye.
He watched as she stretched her hand out, her eyes going wide and pointing at him.
“Dada!” She said.
Peter’s mouth opened as he struggled for something to say.
“Dad!” She called out again, pointing to Peter and starting to tap her mom’s shoulder. A few other people were starting to look towards them, giving Peter a curious look as if wondering why he wasn’t approaching the pair.
He didn’t know how to explain that she wasn’t his child without sounding like an asshole.
He was just trying to be nice. He was just trying to keep her entertained. Coffee shops could be boring as a kid. Hell. They were boring as an adult. They were overpriced, overcrowded and over-stimulating on a good day. Without his friends around and without Louis working the till to give him a discount, it was just a pitstop in his day. The kid had made it a little more memorable.
“That’s not your dad.” The mom cooed to her kid, stroking her hand over her hair as she turned to look at Peter. The child pointing at him once again and calling him ‘dada’ yet again.
“Nope, still not your dad, Janey.” She told her.
With her attention fully on him, Peter was able to get a proper look at the mother. His heart deciding to pick up it’s pace as he took her in. Aside from the fact that she was practically the embodiment of his type; tall, dark hair and dark eyes, a confidence in her posture that drew him in. It was the way, she had the same brown eyes as her daughter, shining with fondness and adoration for the child in her arms, and the lines deepening around her mouth as she looked between the little girl – Janey – and him that really captivated him.
He was ready to brush away whatever apology she was about to offer, but it didn’t come, instead her eyes tracked over him. Sliding up and down him a smirk slowly forming at her lips.
Under her gaze, Peter rolled back his shoulders and stood straighter, trying to withhold a cringe at how obvious he must have looked as he preened especially when her eyes began to shine with amusement. The girl in her arms rapt attention as she listened to her mom speak.
The people around them went back to their own conversations, attention moving away from them now that Janey had stopped calling out.
The woman tilted her head, smirk broadening. Her assessment complete.
“Not yet anyway.” She said, “He’s gotta play his cards right though. We can’t accept just anyone because...” She trialled off, encouraging Janey to finish off the sentence.
“We’re the best!” The little girl replied, sounding like she was reciting the words from memory.
Peter’s cheeks flushed as he realised what she was implying.
“Are you flirting with me?” He asked to clarify.
“Little bit.” She replied with a confident smirk that has his stomach twisting itself.
“How do I make it a definite?” He countered with a tilt of his head.
She hummed though she looked pleased at him rising to the challenge. “Are you a weirdo? Red flags?”
“My friends say I’m an acquired taste and have definitely called me weird before but I think it’s said with love.” He replied.
“That was very honest.” She laughed, surprised.
“That’s the best policy, right?” He said, turning the question more towards the little girl who was more interested in paying attention to holding her cup the right way. He still wanted to make her feel included.
“Do you have a name?”
“Peter Parker.” He said instantly. “Have I mentioned that my aunt thinks I’m a catch?”
“That definitely would have sold it for me sooner if you had.” She said through a laugh. His stomach fluttered at the sound.
Peter clicked his tongue. At her side, Janey looked up and tried to mimic the sound.
"Could I get your name? I missed it when they called your order."
"Poor situational awareness." She noted.
"Red flag?"
"Huge." She said. His stomach was still fluttering, her smile still broad.
"Take pity on me?"
She wets her lips, considering something. The silence stretching on for too long, Peter willing to compromise if it kept their conversation going.
“You can call me MJ. And this is-“
“MJ too!” The little girl interrupted. Her mom’s attention immediately snapping to her, that same fondness taking over her face.
“Excellent name if you ask me.” Peter said without a moment’s hesitation, grinning down at the girl who was looking between the adults with a huge smile.
“Jane. Or Janey.” MJ clarified for him. "Her uncle calls her Mini Jones sometimes. So. MJ." Her hand rubbing the little girl’s back on instinct. It reminded him of when he was younger and May would do the exact same thing when she introduced him to new people.
Peter had a lot of change as a kid. Just old enough to remember what living with his parents had been like, too young to really understand what their loss meant, smart enough to realise that it could happen again.
‘Incredibly smart, but withdrawn’ a lot of his reports had said. ‘A pleasure to have in class, always attentive and hardworking. However, Peter should work on collaborating with his classmates during group work’, a few others said. He must have figured there was some kind of safety in isolation. He couldn’t lose anyone if he didn’t have anyone.
May had always reminded him just how untrue that idea was, a grounding presence with her hand on his back or smoothing over his hair. Just a small way to say that she was still there.
It took a while but he started to believe her.
He bent down to hold out his hand to the young girl.
“It’s nice to meet you. You did a great job introducing me to your mom... Do you think she'd be interested in seeing me again?"
The little girl considered this, lips pressed into a thin line as she contemplated it. He appreciated the gravity she was giving the situation.
"You have ugly shoes." She pointed out, her mom snorting beside her.
"I do. You’re right." He nodded, trying to withhold his own laughter when she reached out and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Do you think if I got some like yours she'd wanna go dancing?"
Janey hummed. "Maybe." She replied, drawing the word out. Uncertainty leaking into her voice as she cast her eyes over to her mom who nodded at her to continue. "Maybe. I'd have to ask."
"Could you?" He asked. "She's very pretty. I'd like to see her again."
“Okay!” She said enthusiastically.
“Using my kid?” A beat. "Really?" MJ said quietly as Janey gestured for her to crouch down before whispering in her ear.
“I’m just trying to play my cards right. It’s important to get her approval.” He shrugged, grinning as she tried to hold back a laugh, nodding along intently with everything that Janey was saying.
Her whisper wasn’t very low at all, Peter able to hear the babbled and incoherent words but pretending otherwise. The girls looking over to him every few words and Peter darting his eyes away, whistling as he waited.
He kept glancing back over to the pair, unable to stop the smile that spread as he watched them. MJ’s face full of adoration and patience as she listened to her child. She gently corrected some of the words, working through the sounding of difficult ones. He got a sense that she made everything she could a learning opportunity, happy to ignore Peter’s presence while Janey was speaking.
It really shouldn’t make his heart feel as light as it was.
After a few moments and a brief pause for them both to check if Janey’s drink was cool enough for her to sip from, MJ stood back up.
“Looks like you made it to the next round, Parker.” She said as she pulled out her phone, passing it over to him.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad day after all.
“Mommy met daddy!” Janey shouted as soon as Flash walked in the door.
MJ snorted and hung her head. She’d silently been hoping that she could avoid telling Flash about her upcoming date for at least a few hours. Unfortunately for her, she’d done a good job raising Jane. Helped her to be excited and curious about the world around her, vocal about the things that interested her and unfortunately for her, in the years since Jackson had passed, Flash had been her support, keeping her going on the harder days and ensuring that Janey felt comfortable with people beyond just MJ.
It took a village and this one had raised a pretty great kid. Even if she was unintentionally ratting MJ out.
“I should hope so otherwise you wouldn’t be here!” Flash said, his voice bright and bubbly, clearly trying to coax her into spilling more information. Janey giggled, holding her hands up for Flash to take and then stepping on his toes, having the man walk them both over to the couch.
“Let’s not make a four year old question her existence please.” MJ cut in as they took their first step, not wanting Janey to spill anymore.
Instead, she’d just prompted a different kind of interrogation.
“Why?” Janey asked, still being waddled forward by Flash.
“Because mommy is too tired to play philosophy.” MJ replied.
“Why?”
“Because you have so much energy and I’m super, duper old.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a good girl who eats all her vegetables so she’s growing up big and strong.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a good mom.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you lots and lots.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re kind of the best.”
Bored of her game or simply pleased by the compliment Jane grinned at her, a low giggle accompanying her victory. As if to punctuate the end of their back and forth. Her phone buzzed, drawing Flash’s attention it. His brow lifted before he stared at her face.
MJ tried to keep her expression level.
“So who’s this mysterious man?” Flash asked.
“He has ugly shoes!” Janey blurted out, looking up at him and then lifting one of her feet of Flash’s to show off the ballet flats that MJ still hadn’t managed to wrangle from her. At this rate, she really wouldn’t be surprised if Janey asked to wear them to bed. “But he liked my ballet ones so he’s okay.”
“That’s definitely the important part here.” Flash said in all seriousness, lifting Janey up and plopping her on the couch next to MJ. The girl nodding in agreement.
“Why haven’t I met him, when was the wedding and most importantly why wasn’t I invited?” Flash asked, perching on the arm of the couch. His jacket still on. This was meant to have just been a quick visit, it seemed. He’d been given reason to stay and wasn’t going to leave until he got his answers.
“It feels like these questions are about you.” She countered. Janey stared up at the two adults, head turning to look at them both as they spoke. MJ could see her forehead creasing with every word that wasn’t directed at her, struggling to follow along. "Should we explore that some more?"
“You’re deflecting.” He replied while she reached to the floor for the remote, offering Janey the chance to pick their movie for the evening. The girl’s eyes lit up, the lines in her forehead gone in an instant, her tiny fingers immediately beginning to jam the buttons of the remote until the Netflix logo was on the screen.
“You’re self centered.” She whispered over her daughter’s head.
“I’m protective.”
“You don’t need to be.” His eyebrows crept up again. Trying to convince him of that was a losing battle really. It was in his nature to be like this. Worsened only by the fact that her dating history following Jackson mostly only ever went to the two date mark – never getting anywhere near close to Janey.
MJ wasn’t scared about letting anyone close again. Just tentative. Jackson had changed her plans a lot – both of them seeing the battle of New York when they were young, growing up with an Avenger sized shadow over their city, surviving the blip and making it out the other side. He became something she didn’t want to lose and with that the whole white picket fence thing became something she wanted sooner rather than later.
Feeling that way about something and having it taken away so soon after had sent her walls right back up. She had her fun, but she didn’t let people too close.
It just felt better that way. Flash didn’t need to worry about her. She had it handled herself.
“It’s just one date!” She huffed. Her phone buzzed again on the couch. She didn’t need to look to know it was Peter, and she didn’t want to think too hard about the way her lips twitched with a smile that was determined to make it’s way on to her face.
Flash looked down at her knowingly. Years of friendship, plus a couple spent practically co-parenting leaving little about her that he couldn’t read.
“For now.” He muttered under his breath. “When d’you want me to watch her?”
MJ let her smile break loose, checking the notification on her phone before turning back to her friend. “Friday?” She asked hopefully.