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The damp chill of the night easily penetrates the comfort of Penny’s leggings and cardigan.
It would be nice if she could say that’s the worst part of all this, as she steps up onto the street from the stairs down to the subway, trying to blend in among the throng of her fellow New Yorkers passing to and fro.
She stops to give some money to a young woman busking who looks like the coolest person alive, then to give more to a guy who seems like he needs it, and then she realizes this leaves her with basically no money left in her wallet for her night out.
Well... the hope was that someone’d be buying my drinks anyway, she thinks, so now that’s just gone from a goal to a necessity. No big deal.
It is, of course, an enormous deal.
The bottom of her hairline is tickling the back of her neck, she can’t stop checking the reflections in passing store windows to make sure there’s no sign of stubble through her hastily applied foundation, and with every brief glance her way from another pedestrian, Penny can’t help but wonder how much they hate her. Not ‘her’ as in the heroine Spider-Gal, but her.
But hey, at least she has spider-sense to warn her of danger. Most trans girls out this late in New York City don’t have that advantage, and Penny tries to be grateful for the potential heads-up.
Still, it’s hard not to feel like an imposter.
When she turns to go down the alley, through a door where she has to give a bouncer her ID (one with the wrong name, but she’s been way too busy to fix that just yet), her big brain can’t focus on anything except all the ways that this can go wrong.
It feels inevitable that the second she goes inside, every set of eyes will be drawn to her like an adamantium skeleton to a Master of Magnetism, and what follows from there will be a cavalcade of violence at best or a room full of cold shoulders at worst.
Instead, Penny steps through the doors of the lesbian bar and the world doesn’t end.
There’s music blaring, the lighting is dark except where it’s garishly colored by the lighting system perched in the corners of the ceiling, and there are a few dozen women and women-adjacent folk of interdeterminate gender hanging out. Some are at tables, in groups, some are dancing in a way Penny feels weird for looking at for more than a few seconds, and some are at the bar, all by themselves.
Penny looks down at herself and screws up her courage. Okay, I can do this. I fight supervillains on the regular! Save people from natural disasters! I’ve even had a hand in stopping an apocalypse or two! Her attention centers on her powder blue cardigan, knit by Aunt May; the crop top beneath, one that works with her push-up bra to give her an illusion of boobage; the black leggings with a few strategic (and totally intensional) tears in them; the miniskirt flaring about her hips in a way that makes her look like she almost has curves. I’m cute. I’m cute. I’m cute.
Telling herself that over, and over, and over, Penny goes to the bar, takes an empty seat and just... waits.
The bartender, a woman with at least five-hundred grams of various metals festooned around her face and a sideshave that makes her swoop of strawberry pink bangs look even hotter, gives Penny a questioning look as she passes by, but Penny just shakes her head.
It’s loud in here, and Penny’s tempted to pull out her phone, or just leave because this will never work, but she leans on advice from a trusted source the same way she leans on the bar, and waits.
“Heyyyyy, there,” comes a voice from behind her, a shiver goes down Penny’s spine at the flirty tone. “You looking for someone to buy you a drink?”
It cannot possibly be this easy.
Penny waits to talk, making sure she’s properly setting her voice so it’ll come out feminine instead of what she’s used to, before turning and looking at the girl who’s greeted her. “I was kind of hoping... you wouldn’t mind?” She finishes with a timid smile, which is an awesome choice because Penny doesn’t have to fake the nervousness behind it.
Immediately, some corner of Penny’s brain is screaming that this girl looks familiar. Short black hair with a lot of volume up top, pale skin, a sleeveless maroon dress that makes it clear that she’s got muscles under all that pretty. Tinted sunglasses hide away her eyes, but they can’t hide that they’re focused on Penny.
Meeting that gaze, Penny has the distinct impression that she’s food.
Which shouldn’t be as hot as it is, really.
Before she knows it, the girl has taken a seat beside her, paid for her drink (a mojito), and is leaning close, intent on Penny in a way that is at once alarming and exciting. “You seem skittish. First time?”
“Yeah...” Penny wonders if she should say why. If she should make it clear, or if it’s already obvious.
Then the girl reaches out to stroke Penny’s arm, and her touch is cold.
Cold as a corpse.
Ohhh... she’s a vampire. That’s a little hot, but it’s also kind of disappointing. Of course she isn’t interested in me. I’m just... dinner, I guess. Or breakfast? They’re nocturnal, right?
Wait a second... if she’s here to eat me, why isn’t my spider-sense tingling, even a little?
The girl leans in further, whispering, “Y’know, you should come by more often. Pretty girls like you fit in great...” and then the overhead lighting that’s been tinting her and Penny and everything around them in shades of green moves somewhere else, and Penny is able to see that this girl’s sunglasses are actually a bright pink.
She blinks. “Jubilee?”
The X-Alive X-Man blinks, and all at once her manner changes. Seductive intent is replaced by brief confusion, a quick once over, and then a light flushing in her cheeks.
Yeah, this is definitely her. How did I not notice this is Jubes?
There’s a name on Jubilee’s lips, but before she can say it, Penny corrects her. “It’s Penelope, now. Penny for short.” She gives a little shrug, and tries not to shrink too obviously with disappointment.
“That’s so awesome!!” She claps Penny on the back, suddenly wearing a toothy grin that does nothing to hide her fangs, before calling out an order of fries and sitting sideways in her seat, one leg hooking up to rest on the other knee, and it’s hard to be too disappointed now that Penny knows she has a friend here.
The contrast between the prowling creature of the night who’d first approached and the total dork grinning at her now makes Penny feel a little better for her mistake. Yeah, I hold no responsibility. She acts like a totally different person when hunting.
Bursting with excitement, Jubilee gestures with a pale hand to Penny’s everything.“You look so good!!!”
“You don’t have to say that,” Penny whispers, taking a small sip from her drink.
From her peripheral vision, she catches Jubilee’s expression fall into a frown. “What? But, like... I mean it.”
No, you don’t. She’s sparing her feelings, because she’s a friend. It’s the same as... as...
“Don’t make me use my vampire hypnosis to make you believe I mean it. Trust me, I will.” Jubilee crosses her arms, almost scowling now, but there’s too much affection in her eyes for Penny to actually be worried she’s made her friend mad.
Penny waves the idea off. “You do not have hypnosis powers.”
“Uhhh, yeah I do. Don’t test me, girlypop.” Then, her expression melting, she reaches out a hand and rests it on the soft yarn over Penny’s shoulder. “I wasn’t flirting with you for no reason. You’re a major hottie.”
“You were thirsty.”
Jubilee threw her hands up. “Yeah, and you’re a verifiable snack! Wait, I’ll prove it.” Before Penny can stop her, Jubilee turns to one of the women milling about and locks eyes with her. The woman, rippling with muscles that she’s evidently happy to show off with her sleeveless vest, weather outside be damned, goes relaxed, slack with obedience, and shuffles closer without a word from Jubilee. “Do you think my friend here is hot?”
The woman, unblinking, turns to look Penny over, before focusing on Jubilee again and slowly nodding her head.
With a sharp motion of her hand, Jubilee ends whatever trance she put the girl under, leaving the butch to shake herself out of it and head over to the dancing area.
Penny crosses her arms, and does her best not to react to the way even the gentle pressure against her chest earns an over-the-top sensation. Stupid growing boobs. “You cheated, that doesn’t mean anything.”
“Boooo, if Jean had just, like, read that girl’s mind and told you the same thing I did, you totally would’ve believed her.” The fries arrive, and Jubilee nudges them towards Penny while grumbling, “Stupid anti-vampire bee-ess...”
“I get you’re trying to be supportive, but... I’ve only been on HRT for six months, Jubes. No one’s looking at me like I’m actually a girl.” It can’t be that easy. “They’re just being polite.”
Jubilee flips her off, and a little firework rises out of the middle finger and pops into a miniature plasma explosion in the shape of a hand flipping Penny off. “Except I did, hence why I bought you that drink. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” One side of her lips quirk into a smile, and Penny follows her gaze to the oddly familiar woman who’s just entered the bar, with long black hair and an impressive resting bitch face. “...my favorite juice box has arrived. Later!”
They both wave goodbye as they part, and Penny’s sad to see her go.
Especially because she’s sure that’ll be the only real attention she gets this evening.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
Penny Parker, of course, is wrong.
For the next few hours, Penny ends up talking with three different girls, each of whom buys her at least one drink.
One of them ends up walking away in a huff when Penny makes it clear she isn’t cool with the Friends of Humanity, one of them was just waiting for her friends to arrive and leaves Penny with a few rushed compliments, but the last nurses a drink with her and they just... talk.
Well, talk and flirt.
At least, Penny thinks she’s flirting.
It doesn’t end because something goes wrong, only because the girl (Kayla) has work the next morning, and slips Penny her phone number before she heads to the coat room.
Penny’s looking at that little slip, those ten digits, the little heart under it, for about five minutes before a gorgeous red-head clears her throat. “I take it you’re free?”
Heart skipping a beat, Penny just nods, keeping her head down. This woman, this ode to the perfection of the human form, this goddess, buys herself and Penny a mudslide, one they can share with two straws. “I’ve got to say, I’m surprised a girl like you was sitting all by herself... how has no one snapped you up yet?” The woman reaches out, skating fingers across Penny’s arm, and even through the cardigan it feels electric.
“You almost lost your chance; I was about two minutes from asking my last dance partner if she wanted to go somewhere more private.”
The woman laughs at that, and the husky timbre of it gives Penny goosebumps. “Sounds like I hit the jackpot, then.”
Penny can’t help it.
She laughs.
Her back bends, her hands go to her stomach, tears slip down her cheeks and she guffaws without any semblance of control.
“S-s-seriously, MJ?” she ends up asking, once she can breathe again. “Way to break the immersion.”
Her wife pouts. “Excuse you, I was fully in-character.”
“Your character was you,” Penny shot back.
“Exactly. And, if you’ll remember, I’m the one who used the line first.” A smile blossomed across MJ’s face, slowly but intractable, and Penny felt herself fall a little more in love with her seeing it. “And I meant it. If we really did meet like this for the first time, with you as you are now, I’d say it, and I’d be here, chatting you up and trying to get into your skirt.”
“Whoa, what kind of spider do you take me for?” Penny jokes, her voice a whisper, but any attempt to hide how well MJ’s flirts are working is totally failing, she knows that.
At least the way she’s sitting hides the visible reaction of MJ’s words on Penny’s downstairs department.
MJ leans in, closer and closer, clearly savoring the way the angle only gives Penny more and more cleavage to stare into, before whispering with her lips less than a centimeter away from Penny’s ear, “Why don’t we head back home, and then I’ll show you exactly what kind of spider I think you are.”
“O-oh. Okay.”
“Is that okay, baby? You’re ready to head back?” She’s sweeping Penny off the barstool, helping her stand without wobbling despite all the drinks, her arm wrapped around the back of Penny’s waist. “You already got quite a bit of attention already, but I’m sure if we keep going past midnight, you’ll end up with a few more numbers.”
No more of that.
Penny stands up on her tiptoes, stealing MJ’s lips with her own, her mind a haze of pleasure and affection.
After a few eternities of making out while standing there, Penny pulls back, rests on her heels, and says dreamily, “Let’s go home.”
Like any good scientist, Penny had needed to put her wife’s claim that Penny was already ‘hot’ to the test.
This required an experiment, one that could disprove MJ’s errant idea.
Penny didn’t get the result she expected, MJ’s theory found itself supported rather than debunked, but that was okay.
The entire way back to their home, down streets and through subways and up flights of stairs, Penny doesn’t stress about how people saw her, or worry about being hate crime’d, or feel like an imposter.
She just relishes the feeling of being what she is: a girl head over heels in love.