Spideychelle one-shots

Dear Journal (Pt. 10)

"I'm not just some girl who thinks she knows Spiderman." MJ was sitting in her living room, Mr. Stark (Ironman, her mind screamed) lounging across from her. "I'm not one of his," her nose wrinkled. "His groupies. I know him, and I know Peter."

"They're the same person." Mr. Stark was hiding it very well, but MJ could tell he was nervous. Her bursting into tears in front of him probably hadn't helped, but she had recovered quickly. She could cry more later, after they had saved Peter. 

"Are they?" 

Mr. Stark gave her a long, assessing look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that sometimes, who Peter is at school is as much of a persona as Spiderman is. But you probably know him better than anyone, huh?" The glint in her eyes was purely challenging. Mr. Stark froze, and MJ could almost see the gears in his mind whirring. He carefully set down the coffee MJ had given him.

"What did he tell you?"

MJ smiled, ice and fire. "Oh, nothing really. He just confirmed some... rumors."

"I don't know what you think it is you know - "

"Don't lie to me." MJ leaned forward. "Oh, don't look like that. I'm not going to tell anyone. That would just hurt him and that's the last thing I want. I just want you to know that I'm not in this blindly. I know what's going on. And now you know that Peter - that Spiderman - trusted me enough to tell me."

"He told you as Spiderman?"

"Yup." MJ couldn't help the look of satisfaction on her face. She admired Tony Stark but he had been treating her like an idiotic naïve child and that had needed to stop.  

"So, what's the plan?" 

Mr. Stark paused. MJ waited expectantly. "You have a plan, right?" she asked. "I mean, to rescue Peter. You have..." she watched his face. "Some sort of an idea?"

"You were our next lead. You were the plan."

"So you really meant it when you said you had no idea where he was."

"Yes."

"None?" MJ couldn't help the look of incredulity that passed over her face. But come on! This was Ironman! She was expecting gadgets backed by the billionaire in a suit himself! Not the sad, tired man she saw before her. "That's not good enough."

"What do you know," he asked, eyes not meeting hers. "I was hoping you had more info, but no, you're a dead end like everything else."

"How do you know? It's not like you really asked me anything." And he hadn't. They'd gone over that day, briefly, the last time she saw him and the things they'd done. "You didn't ask me about my attackers, or about getting shot."

"No, I didn't. But maybe if you'd contacted the police the first time you got attacked, or even the second, the police would have been able to get some prints off you and we wouldn't be in this situation."

MJ stopped. Bit her lip. "I know," she admitted. "I keep thinking, they probably have the knife..."

"What knife?" Mr. Stark looked interested. 

"The knife I was almost stabbed with," MJ said, irritated. "Are you even paying attention?"

"Right, sorry. I must have... missed that bit. You were stabbed?"

"Almost."

"Right. You were almost stabbed, but your attacker left the knife behind?"

"Peter hit it out of his hand. This was the second time he tried to stab me," MJ said. Mr. Stark makes a, "oh, of course," face, but MJ ignores him. "He said he would stick around till the police got there. I assume they took the knife?"