|
 |
| Issue #3 October 2003 |
"Living for the Weekend" Written by Joel Phillips |
||
|
|||
"You've got to be kidding me." Spider-Man said, staring up at the trio of villains surrounding him.
"Do we look like we're kiddin' wit ya?" Rhino said, chuckling. Shocker just stood behind him, staring, while Speed Demon fidgeted in place.
"I don't suppose we could talk about this, hmm?"
The Rhino just laughed, and slammed his fist into Spider-Man's back, smashing him back down to the ground. Spider-Man groaned his insides scrambled. The Rhino smashed him again, and again, the ground crumbling beneath the force of the blows.
"Take it easy, horn-head," the Shocker said. "You bust him up bad enough to kill him and we don't get paid."
"Maybe dis is worth more den da money?" Rhino grunted, rearing back for another blow. "I love a good rumble."
The Rhino brought his fist high above his head, only to have a wire fly out from the darkness and tangle around it. "Funny," a voice said from the darkness, "so do I!"
The Black Cat flew out from the shadows, kicking the Rhino right in the mouth. Another swift kick sent the Shocker flying, but Speed Demon slammed into her before she could turn again.
"Prettykittyprettykitty." he rambled, stomping on her chest.
"That's enough of. that!" Spider-Man said, jumping up and belting Speed Demon right between the eyes. Speed Demon stood there for a moment, shook his head, and fell flat on his face.
"I didn't think I hit him that hard," Spider-Man said, helping the Black Cat to her feet.
"You're stronger than you look, handsome," she responded, giving him a suggestive wink.
Spider-Man smirked at her beneath his mask, and knew from her eyes that she could tell. "Where'd Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum go?" he said, looking around. The Rhino and the Shocker were both gone.
"I don't know," she said, looking around. "I guess they wised up."
"Or decided they weren't getting paid enough for two," Spider-Man replied.
"Possibly. Say, why don't we web this one up and go out to dinner? My treat."
Peter smirked again, and Felicia, sensing it, did so in return.
"It's nice of you to do this, Felicia, but I'm okay. Really."
"Don't lie to me, Parker. Between the mess between you and MJ. and poor Aunt May. I know you, and I know how you like to tear yourself up. Like making yourself miserable is going to someone help with anything."
Peter smiled. "Do I look miserable to you?"
"Yes." Felicia sipped her wine before setting the glass back down, still tracing the rim with her finger. "What do you want, Peter?"
"Sorry?"
"What do you want? Do you want MJ back?"
"Of course," Peter said, thoroughly confused. "That's a silly question."
"What are you doing to get her back?"
Peter looked down at his plate, refusing to look back up again. "Felicia, I don't want to talk about."
"Fine," she said, cutting him off. "Fine by me. But keep in mind, Mr. Science, that right now MJ is an object in motion. away from you. And unless you do something to turn her back around, she's going to keep moving farther and farther away. And by then she might be too far away to get back."
"Is this supposed to be cheering me up?" Peter asked.
"No, it's supposed to be waking you up."
Peter and Felicia stared at each other across the table for a moment, an d awkward look between them. Peter smiled and looked away.
"You don't have to do that on my account, Parker. I know when I'm being flirted with for real and when it's just the situation. I don't take it personally." Felicia smiled, arching an eyebrow.
Peter shook his head. "Same old Felicia."
Later that night, Peter returned to his apartment and collapsed in the chair by the phone. He stared at it, and found himself more afraid of it then he had been of his opponents earlier that day. Felicia was right, of course: MJ wasn't going to come back on her own. The thing that bothered Peter was this nagging thought in the back of his mind, one that made him wonder how badly he really wanted MJ back. Was anger holding him back? Or pride?
"You've nothing to fear but fear itself," Aunt May had always said, acting as if she had originated the saying. But Peter knew better. If being Spider-Man had taught him anything, it was that there are things in the world worth being afraid of, things that can hurt you in the kind of way you don't recover from. But he had gotten so used to the direct threats, the ones he could see and face down, that the more personal dangers slipped right past him and clobbered him from behind.
Peter closed his eyes, and brought his fingers down on the telephone. Suddenly, it rang, and he jumped in surprise. He stared at the receiver as it rang again, then a third time, not sure if he should pick it up. It rang a fourth time before he heard his message begin. Not allowing it to finish, Peter snatched up the phone.
"I'm here." he said.
