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The sun was warm on Peter Parker’s shoulders as he watched Mary Jane Watson-Parker play with their three-year-old daughter, Mayday, in the shallow waters at Coney Island. Mayday was running around in her swimsuit. Her red hair all tangled, trying to get away from the small waves. MJ, laughing, finally picked her up, which made Mayday squeal with delight.
Peter leaned back on his elbows, the sand on his arms. This, he thought, is what it's all about. Spider-Man was still around, sure, but Miles had things handled most of the time. Now, Peter’s biggest battles involved convincing Mayday that vegetables were actually tiny trees and therefore fun to eat.
He smiled as MJ walked slowly back up the beach with Mayday on her hip. She sat down on their beach blanket with an exhausted huff, though her eyes were bright.
"Okay, Tigress," MJ said. "Time for a snack. You're gonna turn into a little prune if you stay in the water any longer."
Mayday pouted, but the promise of something to eat quickly diverted her attention. Peter handed over the plastic container, watching his girls with a soft affection that still managed to surprise him.
It was during this peaceful break that MJ went still. Her hand paused midway to the cracker box, her gaze fixed on something down the shoreline.
"Pete," she said, her voice dropping an octave.
"Hmm?" Peter mumbled around while eating a cracker.
"Look over by the pier. The woman in the black sundress."
Peter squinted his eyes. When he recognized the platinum hair, he stiffened instinctively. "Is that... Felicia?"
"It is," MJ said. "I haven't seen her in three years. Not since right before May was born."
"Me neither," Peter murmured. He shifted uncomfortably, pulling Mayday a little closer to his chest. "What is she doing here? In broad daylight?"
"She looks... sad," MJ observed softly.
"She's probably just thinking about how much she hates the beach," Peter said, trying to make a joke but failing miserably.
MJ turned to look at him, her expression serious. "We should go talk to her."
Peter choked slightly. "What? No. MJ, come on."
"Why not?"
"Because!" Peter gestured vaguely. "Because we're here, and she's there, and it's... complicated. I don't want to cause any problems."
MJ raised an eyebrow. "Problems? We haven't seen her in three years, Peter. I thought we were all past the 'problems' stage."
"We are," Peter insisted. "But it's just... I'm with you now. We have Mayday. I don't want to rub it in her face or make things awkward."
MJ sighed and she reached over, taking his hand.
"Peter Benjamin Parker," she said gently. "You're an idiot."
"Hey!"
"I have always known," MJ continued, ignoring his protest, "that you love her. Even with all her issues, all the masks and the running away. You love her just as much as you love me."
Peter felt the air rush out of his lungs. He stared at his wife, his heart hammering against his ribs. "MJ, I-"
"Don't try to deny it," she said, squeezing his hand. "And honestly? It's okay. It took me a long time to realize it, but it's human to love more than one person. Especially when you've been through what you two have."
"But I chose you," Peter whispered, his voice thick.
"I know you did," MJ smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached her eyes. "And I chose you. But that doesn't mean those feelings just vanish. And it doesn't mean she still isn't important to you. To us."
Peter looked down at their joined hands, then back up at MJ. He saw no anger, no accusation, only a quiet understanding that humbled him.
"I might be a little bit jealous sometimes," MJ admitted, her voice dropping. "But she was my friend, too, remember? Before things got messy again."
It was true. MJ and Felicia had actually been close. They had bonded over their shared exasperation at his stubbornness, mostly.
"So," MJ said briskly, releasing his hand and turning to Mayday. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go say hi to an old friend."
Peter watched, slightly stunned, as MJ gathered Mayday and began walking toward the pier. He scrambled up and hurried to catch up.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, falling into step beside her.
"Positive," MJ said. "Besides, I think she could use some company."
As they drew closer, Peter could see the tension in Felicia's frame more clearly. She was staring out at the horizon, her arms wrapped around herself as if she was avoiding a chill, though the day was scorching.
"Felicia?" MJ called out softly as they approached.
Felicia flinched, spinning around. For a second, Peter saw the Black Cat: the fierce, defensive stance, the guarded eyes. Then, recognition washed over her face, followed rapidly by a complex mix of surprise, something like relief, and... panic?
"Mary Jane," Felicia breathed. Her gaze flicked to Peter, then immediately darted down to the toddler clinging to MJ's leg. "Peter."
"Hi, Felicia," Peter said, suddenly feeling entirely out of his depth.
"It's been a while," MJ said, her tone warm and easy. "We saw you from down the beach. Thought we'd come say hello."
Felicia swallowed hard, her eyes still glued to Mayday. "Hello."
Mayday, sensing the attention, peeked out from behind MJ's leg, her big green eyes wide with curiosity. She pointed a finger at Felicia.
"Pretty lady," Mayday announced clearly.
Felicia let out a startled, slightly breathless laugh. The tension in her shoulders dropped a fraction. "Well, aren't you sweet."
"This is Mayday," MJ introduced, gently nudging the toddler forward. "Mayday, can you say hi to Felicia?"
"Hi 'Licia," Mayday mumbled, suddenly shy.
Felicia knelt down, bringing herself to eye level with the little girl. Peter watched, a strange ache in his chest, as Felicia offered a tentative smile. It wasn't her usual sharp, confident smirk; it was softer, a little fragile.
"Hello, Mayday," Felicia said softly. "It's very nice to meet you."
Mayday studied her for a moment, then, with the unpredictable logic of a three-year-old, decided Felicia was acceptable. She moved forward and offered a piece of her cracker.
"Cracker?"
Felicia accepted the offering with grave solemnity. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed."
MJ chuckled. "Careful, she’s trying to bribe you. She thinks she can get out of naptime if she gives away all her snacks."
Felicia looked up at MJ, and for a moment, Peter saw a flash of the old fellowship between them. "I won't tell if you won't."
She stood up, brushing sand from her knees, though she carefully held onto the damp cracker. She looked at Peter, really looked at him for the first time.
"You look good, Peter," she said quietly. "Happy."
"I am," Peter replied, the truth of it ringing clear. "You... you look good too, Fel."
It was a lie, and they both knew it. She looked exhausted. There were faint shadows beneath her eyes, and the usual spark that always filled her gaze had faded away.
"Thanks," she murmured, looking back out at the water. "Just... enjoying the view."
Peter stepped closer, the familiar urge to fix things, to protect her, rising fast. His spider-sense wasn't tingling, but his instinct was screaming that something was wrong.
"Are you okay, Felicia?" he asked, his voice low.
She stiffened, a brief flinch that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known her so well. "I'm fine, Peter. Just a lot on my mind."
"If you ever need anything-"
"I don't," she cut him off, perhaps a bit too harshly. She took a breath, visibly forcing herself to relax. "I appreciate the thought, Peter. Truly. But I'm fine."
MJ stepped in, her tone light but firm. "Well, if you change your mind, you know how to find us. We're still at the same place in Queens."
Felicia offered a tight smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
She looked down at Mayday again. A profound sadness flickered across Felicia's face, so quickly Peter thought he might have imagined it.
"She's beautiful, Mary Jane," Felicia said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You both did a good job."
"Thanks," MJ said softly.
"I should go," Felicia said abruptly, taking a step back. "I have... things to do."
"It was really good to see you, Felicia," MJ said, her sincerity evident.
"You too, MJ," Felicia replied. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before looking at Peter. "Take care of them, Peter."
"Always," Peter promised.
Felicia turned and walked away, her pace quick, almost hurried. Peter watched her go uneased. He knew her well. She was hiding something. Something big.
MJ moved to stand beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "She's hurting."
"Yeah," Peter agreed, his brow furrowed. "But she won't let me help."
"She will, when she's ready," MJ said, resting her head against his shoulder. "Or she won't. But we let her know we're here. That's all we can do."
Peter sighed, pulling MJ closer and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He looked down at Mayday, who was now demanding more crackers.
He had a family now. Responsibilities that grounded him in a way swinging through the city never had. He loved MJ. He loved the life they had built together.
But watching Felicia's retreating figure, he knew MJ was right. A part of him would always love the Black Cat, with all her sharp edges and hidden depths. And a part of him would always worry about her.
"Come on, you two," Peter said, forcing a cheerfulness he didn't quite feel. "Let's get this little monster cleaned up before she eats a seagull."
MJ laughed, the sound warm and comforting in the sea air. She scooped Mayday up, ignoring her protests.
As they walked back to their blanket, Peter cast one last glance down the beach. Felicia was gone, swallowed by the crowd. He breathed in the salty air, feeling the solid presence of his wife beside him and the joyful noise of his daughter.
He couldn't save everyone. He had finally accepted that. But he could be here, for the people who let him.
"You're a good man, Peter Parker," MJ murmured, bumping her hip against his.
"I have a good teacher," he replied, smiling down at her.
Felicia Hardy leaned against an old pier post under the boardwalk, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
Seeing them... seeing him... it had been a shock to the system. She had expected it to hurt, and it did. But the deeper ache had come from the sight of that little girl. Mayday.
She was so beautiful. So happy.
Felicia closed her eyes, fighting back the sudden burn of tears. She had spent three years building a fortress around her life, keeping her secrets safe, keeping him safe.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her hands shaking slightly. A text message from the sitter.
Down for his nap. Julian refused his carrots again, but ate everything else. All quiet here.
A watery smile touched Felicia's lips. Her chest tightened. The familiar, fierce protectiveness washing over the lingering sorrow.
"I'm fine," she whispered to the empty air beneath the boardwalk. "We're fine."
She pocketed the phone and stepped out from the shadows, her posture straightening, the Black Cat mask slipping firmly back into place. She had things to do. She had a life to protect. And she would do it alone, just as she always had.