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SNOW BEGAN TO FALL as the clock struck 2:45 AM. It was light, but the air was cold enough to make Sloane pull on a pair of thick wool socks over her thermal leggings. She tugged on a pair of boots, her favorite puffer jacket, and attempted to tame her hair back into a ponytail. Nothing could save the dark circles under her eyes though. She'd only gotten a few hours of sleep – and only about ten minutes of a stupid wet dream – before she got that call from Spider-Man. He had to be arriving any minute now. How? She didn't know. He could just ring the buzzer, or maybe he'd arrive on the patio. Jesus, how was she going to be able to look him in the eye after –
A fist knocked against her bedroom window.
Sloane gasped when her eyes met Spider-Man's mask through the glass. He stood on her fire escape, waiting for her patiently. She swallowed hard, casting the memory of her dream away, but it was ... difficult. With a huff, Sloane walked over to the window and slid it open to the side, stepping onto the already-small fire escape. Their chests were practically touching as she locked the window behind her. "Um – good morning?" She greeted, more like a question, and tried to look at anyone but him.
"Sorry to wake you," he said. Sloane thought of the dream once again, and pressed her nails into her palm as a distraction. "Let's go."
Before she could protest, Spider-Man had already cast a web to the building across the street and gathered her small form into his arms. Sloane screamed, even before they were flying through the air. But once she felt the wind whipping against her face, and watching the way they were almost hitting the traffic below, her voice went even louder, reaching octaves she hadn't yet explored. She clung to Spider-Man's neck, digging her nails into the thick spandex of his old suit. At one point – she wasn't sure when – she stopped screaming, and instead opted to shut her eyes.
Spider-Man swung them all the way to the Rego Park borough, just northwest of Forest Hills. He wasn't as agile or quick-thinking as he used to be, and they definitely came close to becoming roadkill a few times when his webbing didn't stick to a surface just right. But they somehow made it in one piece. He landed on top of an abandoned building, which stood in front of an apartment property with four cop cars parked beside it, lights flashing. Sloane's head had already been pounding from a hangover, but she felt like she was truly spinning as soon as he set her down. She jumped away from his hold immediately and exclaimed, eyes darting away, "You could've given me a warning, asshole!"
