Chapter Text
Normally on weekends such as this, MJ gets to enjoy the quiet, at least for a few hours before the novelty wears off and she misses the constant noise that comes with having another person in the house.
The sound from the Switch that MJ had been adamant about not getting but quickly changed her opinion on or the sound of a four-year-old using her dolls to act out scenes that MJ has debated recording and sending to the few writers she still had a number for – just a little bit of inspiration. Even the constant loop of Disney songs, lyrics that felt as though they were engrained into her very soul, that were only put on pause to play the dainty, tinkly tunes from dance rehearsals.
MJ misses it all.
The headache that could form at her temple, sharp and stabbing, from long days at work followed by longer evenings, balancing her life with Jackson’s and ensuring that their kid never felt a moment of stress or tension from trying to maintain that balance, keeping her busy and letting her be her age, was more than worth it when all that noise was accompanied with a broad smile, a high-pitched squeal and laugh. A round face and bouncing curls that she’d do absolutely anything for.
She’d even take any sign of life from next door at this rate, but it’s been silent there too.
However, this weekend, all MJ has had to keep her company is the TV drowning out the horrendous gurgling and churning that her pipes are making. Her recurring headache starting to brew for an entirely different reason when she was unable to make sense of the PVC maze under her countertops.
As ever, determined to try fixing it herself the first time around. Her pride the only thing stopping her from calling out anyone to help with it.
God, she is happy when she’s given a perfectly reasonable distraction from it all, her mind immediately clearing ad her mood lifting when she hears the sound of keys turning in the door, chatter on the other side of the wood and a speedy bundle launching itself at her legs as soon as the door opened.
“Mommy!” A voice shrieks. Arms wrapping around her legs and brown eyes looking up at her. Mj’s heart two sizes bigger in her chest.
“Janey!” She replies just as excitedly.
Everyone had told her that having a kid would be hard, but they had also told her that it would always be worth it.
They were right.
Even going through the separation with Jackson after it hit them that while they loved each other, they weren’t in love with each other anymore, and the work it took to find a version of them that was happy where they were and could give Jane everything she needed, the hard work was so worth it to see her face.
Even if said little girl was wearing her outfit from her ballet class yesterday that should be packed away in her bag rather than on her person.
MJ hikes Jane up to her hip, holding her lose and shooting Jackson a questioning look as he shuts the door behind him and steps into the apartment they once shared. His work meant he bounced around the country a lot, it was just easier that when it came to dividing their things, MJ kept the apartment for ease and for the consistency in Jane’s life.
“It was the only thing I could get her into.” He sighs, smoothing a hand over his head. MJ spots a few flecks of glitter twinkling there. It was nice to know that even a buzzcut couldn’t save him from the sparkle assault the tiaras his mom bought Jane subjected any wearer to. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, moving to press a kiss to her cheek.
“Eh. You look like you’ve had a weekend of it so I think I can find it in me to forgive you.”
“You’re so kind.” He answers. “You gonna tell your mom what we got up to?”
Jane’s eyes brighten further, her mouth opening and revealing a gap in her mouth, tongue proudly poking into the space.
“Oh... Oh, wow.” MJ says, “You’re getting so big! What did the tooth fairy leave you?”
“A quarter!” She cheers, squirming until she pulls a coin free from the pocket of her jacket.
MJ frowns, looking over to Jackson who has leant against the counter. They hadn’t discussed how much the ‘tooth-fairy’ was going to be leaving, half thinking they had a little more time before they needed to start worrying about that – a mental note being made to ask her mom if they needed to take Janey to the dentist or if it was fine – but a quarter felt a little low.
Inflation, capitalism, etc. Better to give her an accurate view of the market now, right?
As if reading her mind, Jackson rolls his eyes and nods for Janey to continue.
“And?” He prompts.
“Daddy taught me how to make more!”
“More...?” MJ asks slowly, confused.
“Money!”
She flicks her eyes back over to Jackson, realisation dawning on her. “You taught her a magic trick?”
“You got her into the arts, I’m getting her into the Mystic Arts.” He says with a wiggle of his fingers that makes Jane giggle, acting like he hadn't been keenly agreeing with her decision to get Janey a hobby to bring a little more routine and structure to her life and acting like he hadn't been the one to find the studio.
MJ rolls her eyes and looks down towards Jane who demonstrates by showing her palm, now void of the coin, closing it, not enough dexterity in her hand to fully cover the coin as it slips from behind her thumb into her closed palm but MJ pretends not to see it, gasping only when Jane opens up her hand again to reveal the coin.
“Well done!” She grins, kissing Janey’s forehead. “How’d you do it?”
“A magician never reveals their secret.” Jane says solemnly, well-rehearsed.
“I told her she’d be good at that part. Gets that from you.” Jackson teases from behind them. The comment MJ has at the tip of her tongue doesn’t come out, distracted by the TV that’s still playing from the lounge.
“We are getting reports that Spider-Man has been spotted near Forley Street after a break-in at the 110th Precinct. Spider-Man is in the process of apprehending the suspect, but we advise you take alternative routes to avoid delays to travel.” The TV calls out, drawing MJ’s attention. She moves away from the remains and watches for a moment, zoning out as a livestream of the fight is brought up on screen.
The thief looks familiar enough that MJ suspects he’s a frequent foe to Spidey, but she doesn’t make a point of keeping track. Live in the city long enough and they begin to blur.
“You get caught in that?” She asks Jackson offhandedly, cringing as he passes by her to get himself a glass of water from the sink and that noise screeching through the pipes.
Jane’s hands immediately going over her ears, a pout forming in distaste. “That’s not a pretty sound.”
“No, it’s not.” Jackson confirms, his eye moving from the faucet down to the box of tools and then to MJ with an unimpressed look. It’s made worse by the fact he’s wholly unsurprised.
He’d always liked her fierce independence. He claims that it’s what caught his attention when they first met – Jackson a regular on set and working is way up to stunt coordinator and choreographer, MJ new to the scene, more used the commercial shoots she did during her breaks from school than anything this scale. It was only a few episodes as a supporting character that died at the end of her arc on a low-budget CW show, but it paid, and it was a glimpse at a possible future during a time she felt directionless. She was keen to dig her fingers in and see every aspect of the role, even going so far as to track back on her High School hatred of gym class and try her hand at doing her own stunts.
Her determination had made her the perfect project for Jackson to show he could teach, train and guide someone as green as her.
A sprain from her own stupidity of practicing alone, a child and an amicably ended relationship later, Jackson had learnt how that determination and drive could sometimes be her own failing and liked, more than anyone, to remind her that sometimes it was okay to leave it to the professionals.
On the TV news helicopter scans over Forley Street where Spider-Man is dodging one of the blasts, cars abandoned in the middle of the street and only worsening the backlog of traffic, she wonders if maybe it was just a Queens thing.
“I was giving it a go!” MJ tries to defend herself.
“Most divorcees go to the spa or something when they don’t have the kids. They relax. Why not give that a go instead?” Jackson presses, gently kicking her tools aside and making his way back over to them.
“That’s not nearly as fun.”
“I’ll get you to take a break yet, Watson.” A beat. “I can take her another night if you need?” He says, taking the coin from Jane’s hand and doing some sleight of hand to then ‘pull it from her ear’. His other hand resting on MJ’s shoulder.
There was a time where they wouldn’t have been able to do this. There was a time where the conversation felt stilted and forced, hoping to return to what they once were. MJ was so thankful that they could do this again.
She isn’t really sure what she’d do if she didn’t have Jackson as a friend. He’d been there for her through too much for her to wholly be able to walk away from that and not feel as though she’d lost a part of her in the process.
He’d played as her sounding board for every career change she’d made, supporting her when she took the leap to drop out of college to pursue acting and then again when she decided that her maternity leave from the industry was more a permeant exit and only laugh a small (reasonable) amount when she announced she was the entertainment correspondent for the Bugle. Even before they’d started dating, he helped her come to terms with her mom’s new marriage.
The blip had happened towards the start of her Freshman Year of college. She’s able to joke now that she possibly should have taken that as a sign. A lot happened in those five years while the Avengers sorted themselves out, but nothing they did felt nearly as monumental to MJ as finding out that her mom had re-married, expanded her family in the absence of MJ and her dad.
She understood. To a point.
There was an ache, a frustration and a yearning for a simpler, easier time that MJ directed towards her mom for a while.
Jackson hadn’t blipped. He wasn’t she met who hadn’t blipped, but getting to know him as a co-worker, as a friend and as something more, getting to see his version of things, how he mourned the loss of friends and family, how he was getting to know them again, she started to soften to her mom’s perspective.
They found their own way to fix things.
MJ didn’t like being stagnant, especially not after the blip, time feeling too precious to waste standing still and leading her to jump between majors, jobs, people. Jackson had helped challenge her in ways that made standing still feel not as daunting.
She’d miss him too much if they had walked away from each other entirely.
“I have water just need to turn it back on.” Jackson narrows his eyes, trying to assess how much of a lie she’s telling. “When Pete’s home I’ll get him to take a look.”
“You’re going to ask our neighbour to look at your pipes?” He asks, his concern twisting into amusement.
“Don’t be gross!”
“You’re the one that said it!”
“Tell your daddy to stop being so silly please?” MJ mutters into Jane’s ear who crinkles her face up in confusion. Before MJ can explain, Jackson holds his hands up, though his eyes are still starting to glimmer with a mischief that she’s seen reflected in their daughter’s eyes too often.
“I’ll see you next week, kiddo.” He says to Janey, taking her from MJ’s hands to properly say goodbye. It was the first weekend he’d been able to get with her in a little while, his latest shoot eating up so much of his time and the distance to travel making it near impossible for him to visit. She knew it upset him a little bit, but with it coming to an end they should be able to get a longer visit on the books for him.
MJ lets them have their moment, stepping away and getting her phone out. She hadn’t heard anything from Peter’s side of the wall in a few days, figuring he’d gone to visit his aunt for a little while or was maybe on a school trip – though he usually gave her a heads up when he was going to be unavailable in case of instances just like this – but she had one sure fire way to ensure he would stop by the very second he got back.
“This feels like a threat. Is this a threat?” Peter asks as soon as she opens the door, phone shoved into her face with the photo she’d taken an hour ago displayed on the screen of her tools next to the water mains.
MJ raises her finger to her lips to quieten him a little.
After Jackson had left and Jane had really registered that she wasn’t going to be seeing her dad for another week, the waterworks had started. With a teary phone call to him and a promise of another before bed and remaining attached to MJ’s side for the next forty minutes, she’d managed to get her to go down for a nap to ease some of the exhaustion that had started to bring on to her.
“What are you doing to those poor pipes?” He continues, quieter.
“Peter,” MJ replies, aghast as she ignored the phone in his hand and opened the door wider. Her gaze lifting from the screen to watch his face, catching on the bruise at his hairline and the cut that’s stitched together on his cheek. “I am a lady. What I do with my pipes is private.”
Fighting off a fluttering in her stomach as she catches the way his eyes drop down her for a fraction of a second before flicking back up to her face. A faint dusting of red fanning across his cheeks when he realises he’d been caught in the act.
She wasn’t this close with many of the other people in their building. Peter had moved in a few months after Jackson had moved out. They’d first met in the hallway when Janey had decided in the new absence of her father, she would start to call any and every guy they passed ‘daddy’.
It’d been a fairly awkward introduction to say the least, but Peter was polite and good with Janey. He’d then turned up later on her doorstep to apologise for the commotion he’d been causing while moving his things in. Then again when he apparently ‘tripped over a box’.
Things stepped up when he witnessed one of MJ’s few breakdowns. It was the hottest day of the year, Janey sick and Jackson on set and unreachable, their air conditioning out. She had a deadline due, a temperamental teething toddler and a crumbling sense of sanity.
She’d knocked, asking if he could watch Janey for just a few minutes to run to the store so she could grab some more yoghurts to freeze and help soothe her teething, and somehow, it’d ended up with him fixing her air-con and making the trip for her.
MJ had repaid him as best she could – with food and comped tickets to a show – she'd intended it to be for that girlfriend he had mentioned liked the ‘finer things’, but he took his aunt.
The rest became history. She couldn’t shake him checking in on them. Not that she wanted to. She kept repaying him with any leftovers – then no longer waiting for a favour to feed him once she saw the inside of his fridge. He was good with Janey, she grew attached and somewhere along the way they actually became friends.
Though that friendship definitely got put to the test when MJ decided to take on a DIY project herself.
He tilts his head, hand lowering as he stares at her, trying his best not to smile. “I’m serious. How badly are they hurt?”
“No more than you,” She states obviously, already knowing she won’t get a straight answer. “What d’you fall into this time?”
“Tripped over my dignity.” He shrugs.
“I am so glad you found it!” She jokes, letting him in, “Thanks for coming over.”
“S’not a problem.”
MJ isn’t convinced that’s true, watching him closely as he stepped through to the kitchen.
She knew a lot of things about him like how much he adored his aunt, that his uncle had died when he was a teen, that he had taught at the school she was debating sending Janey to but that he didn’t have the best relationship with the admin team there so it was better to avoid mentioning they knew each other. She knew that he’d always pop by before his friend Ned came over and politely give warning if they were going to be having a late one, promising to keep it down so they wouldn’t wake Jane. She knew that he liked his coffee – however he could get it, but mostly his preference was strong.
She knew that he didn’t get enough sleep, that he stayed up late to mark papers and was fighting to get a science club set up for his keener students, she knew that he’d do anything for the people he cared about and knew that she was lucky enough to be included in that number.
She knew that he had a reputation from his time at The Bugle for being a flake, and knew that he often went MIA, but always made a point to check-in with her upon his return.
She knew he was a good guy.
The one thing she didn’t know was whether he actually knew that for him to take care of everyone else he had to take care of himself first. He was a good guy, but everything he did left him very scatter-brained. Sometimes she wondered if he would be as clumsy as he made himself out to be if he actually just gave himself just a few minutes of a break.
It doesn’t take long before their low conversation rouses Janey, who pads out, rubbing her eyes, barely lifting her feet as she steps forward the kitchen, still dressed in her clothes for ballet but now with the added adornment of her oversized bunny slippers and robe (both of which were a gift from the man currently stretched out under her sink).
“Can I have a snack?” She mumbles. MJ certain that the girl could probably go for a least another thirty minutes of sleep with how she wraps herself around MJ’s legs, fist curled into her pants tightly like she’s scared she’ll run.
“You don’t wanna lay back down?” She asks in reply, brushing the stray hairs away from the front of her daughter’s face to try and get a better look at her but unable to with the way she presses further into her leg.
It’s always a toss-up how Janey will return to her – over-excited with bounds of energy, the journey back from her dad’s place and whatever antics they’d gotten up to seemingly powering up rather than tiring her out, or completely and utterly exhausted, the emotional labour of seeing her dad and leaving him again catching up with her or completely and utterly fine, continuing the remainder of the weekend as if nothing was different at all.
Neither of them left MJ without the smallest shred of guilt that she wasn’t doing enough during the week or that the decision they’d made just a few years ago had been a wholly selfish one, that they need or that the both of them were missing something.
Jackson said it was exactly the same whenever Janey arrived at his place; high energy or tears or no reaction at all. He promised her that it was just Janey being a kid. Both their moms promised her the same thing.
She just liked to be sure.
“Hungry.” Jane replies. MJ nods.
“Is that Little Miss Janey I hear out there?” Peter asks as he slides out from under the sink, a great displeasure for MJ since his shift slides down, covering the sliver of his abdomen from where his shirt had risen up.
He might just be a friend, but she also had eyes.
Some of Janey’s lethargy seemed to disappear the second she realised Peter was also in the room with them, pulling back from MJ’s leg.
“How you doing?” He asks, moving so that his back was propped up against the counter, arms loose and open in case Janey wanted to step forward into a hug as she so often did but not pushing for it. The girl let go of MJ’s pant leg and finally stepped further into the kitchen, offering out her hand for a high-five which Peter gladly accepted with a cheer when their hands made a satisfying clap. “You good?” He prompts again. “I heard you had a busy weekend. You all rested up now?”
Jane hums, ignoring his questions and then turning towards the lounge, scurrying over to the side table by the front door where MJ kept a small dish for keys, change and junk mail she hadn’t yet thrown out.
“I learnt magic! I learnt magic!” She starts to chant, her energy starting to creep back up as she hunted for a quarter. “Can I show you? Please, please, please?” She asks, racing back to them. Er voice wobbled a few times as she spoke, an indicator that both MJ and Peter caught, his eyes glancing up to hers, deferring to her judgement.
“I can do every trick ever!”
“I thought you were hungry?” MJ intervenes gently.
“I wanna show Peter my trick!” She whines, her voice cracking, caught between her tiredness, her apparent hunger and her want to proudly show off to someone she hadn’t seen in a few days.
If something went wrong with her demonstration, it would surely end in Janey falling over the tipping point and her ending in tears again.
MJ crouches down, ushering Janey back to her side and gently taking her hands. “Peter has to finish fixing up the sink.” She explains, though she’s fairly sure he’s just finished tightening the last part up. “Remember that horrible, nasty noise from earlier?”
Janey nods. Her lip wobbles.
“He’s gonna make it go away for us, but we just gotta let him finish, yeah?”
“Yeah...”
“And then once he’s done we can show him all the tricks your daddy taught you. Yeah?”
“Okay...”
“Okay, so in the meantime, do you want a snack or do you wanna go lay back down until he’s finished?”
Janey hums, wetting her lips and her fist going back into the fabric of MJ’s clothes, the other still holding a handful of pennies tightly.
“Snack.”
MJ nods, lifting her up and taking her over to the pantry.
After half a banana and an orange juice later, Janey is back to dozing on the couch. Peter standing in the kitchen, waiting until MJ entered again before he flicked the faucet on, the water running smoothly and without any protest coming from the dishwasher or anywhere else in the pipes.
“I am done, by the way, but I am actually curious about this trick.” A beat. “Feels like it’s been a while since I spent some time with you both.”
“You really don’t need to wait around. She’ll forget by the time she’s awake. I know you’ve been busy.”
“After the day I’ve had, I would want nothing more than to just crash here for a bit.” He wets his lips, pausing as he takes a breath. “If that’s alright with you?”"
MJ smiles at him.
“More than.”
She nods her head further into the apartment, taking them past the lounge and towards her bedroom so that could talk a little louder without disturbing Janey as she napped. He falls in step behind her, only stopping for a moment when his phone chimes out, hissing and trying to silence it as quickly as possible.
“Hot date?” She chuckles under her breath.
“Gentleman never tells.” He answers. MJ glances over her shoulder to see him smirking and shaking his head fondly.
“You’re a gentleman now?” She counters, opening the door to her bedroom.
It’s not the first time Peter’s ever been in her room, his apartment is almost always in a worse state and he’s seen her place looking like it’d been hit by a hurricane during the morning rush but she always feels a need to quickly cast her eyes around and check there’s nothing that put him off.
Off what exactly is something she doesn’t like to consider too long because it’s a ridiculous idea.
“You’re not as funny as you think you.” He teases, settling down on the chair by her vanity slash work from home set-up, his feet propped up on the edge of her mattress.
Comfortable. At home.
“It’s just work.” He shrugs before she can press the question anymore. A lie, and a bad one. She can’t imagine what a school has to be texting him about on a Sunday. Once again, reminding her that Peter had an unfortunate habit of never talking directly about himself or his wellbeing.
“You’re taking care of yourself?” She asks, breaking the silence that has fallen over them as she contemplates how close to the truth his answer actually is.
“As much as you are....” He replies, avoiding the question. “You shoulda told me about that sooner.”
Peter nods his head towards the corridor, meaning the sink and her issues with the water like he would have come running back from whoever he’d been the last few days.
The worst part about it being that she believed him. He would try to get back from whatever had kept him busy as quickly as possibly.
He always did when she needed him.
“I had it handled...” It’s a defensive answer and he knows that. He knows her. “You've been busy.”
It’s not meant to be an accusation but it comes across that way. She more meant to say that she didn’t want to be a bother. She didn’t want to be another thing on his list that left him so hurried off his feet he Tripped over them and ended like... Well.
Her eyes flick over him. The bruise at his temple, the cut on his cheek, the way he slouched further into the small chair and pushes his feet further on to her bed, toes brushing against her thigh.
Relaxed and seemingly happy, tired.
“I know. I know....” He smiles at her sweetly. “I’m getting it handled. Promise I’ll be back around more soon.”
She doesn’t know if that’s more for her benefit or for Janey’s or for his own.
Regardless, she believes him.
“You ever heard of taking a break, Parker?”
“Have you?” Peter answers, cocking his head. “How much of this weekend was spent dealing with that instead of having some you time?” A beat. “You look tired, Em.”
Her stomach does that awful fluttering under his gaze. Less heat to it than before. Her cheeks warming as he watches her knowingly. It’s the same feeling the rears its head when Peter let’s Jane place whatever novelty bandaids they’ve got in stock over his bruise of the week, listening intently as she explains why it’s her favourite (or her least if he’s done something cruel like agree with MJ and not snuck her an extra cookie), or when he comes back home after his classes and knocks on her door with a coffee from the place down the block to make the last few hours of her days working from home that little easier.
“So do you.”
The small, private smile she gets in return makes MJ think that she’s not the only one who gets that feeling. She can’t decide how much of a problem that is.