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Title: Last Night Alone
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,206
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: "Hazards & Storms" from Johnny's POV.
So what if Ben's got a new girlfriend? Kudos. Congratulations... you don't don't have a problem with partying alone tonight. Nope. No way. So you ask your sister if she wants to hang out for a while... but Sue's with Reed. Of course. So... with nothing better to do, you give responsibility a try. You do the laundry... sort of. You get as far as taking it out of the dryer, but just dump the rest on your bed. At least it will make your bed warm... not that you need it. It will also make it messy... not that you need it clean for anything.
So you go for a flight. It's only then that you get lucky. She's swinging around tonight. You'd be suspicious of the dark get-up usually, but Peter's mentioned something about her having his seal of approval. Muttered something about them being kind of related. Sounds cool. Or hot, rather. She's got a little bit more of an added sway and shimmy and she plays skyscraper hop-scotch. And you--being Johnny Storm and just plain being a guy--like to watch.
Superheroing knows no nine-to-five, so you don't really know what time it is, but you clue into the fact that it might be really late (or even early) but the way she just starts to move like she's... tired? Exhausted, really. Her muscles start to tremble with each new web, and it seems to take longer to get from structure to structure. And the rain... the rain is probably not helping. You fly closer to invite her to hang out, when she kinda freezes in the air. And you don't. Oops.
She lands on the ground when you set her hair ablaze. You immediately scramble for something to help put it out. Heck, if rain won't do it, pressure will have to, and you kind of doubt more fire from you body is gonna help the situation. She just... stands there. Kind of still. And lets you pat her head like you would pat down a jacket with a stain on it.
Then, your brain finally gets to working, and you realize she's still shaking. And making muffled noises through the mask, almost like she's talking except that she's-- crying. Oh.
Smart, Johnny. Real smart. She's been out here for at least an hour. In the rain. When no baddies are out. Totally aimless. Like she has no where to go. And you, being the ever-so-observant you, have just been ogling her and setting her on fire. Niiiiice. Yeah, you better go into superhero mode STAT, or you're not worth the rubber "4" sewn onto your chest.
You fly with her, trying to carry her all the way in your room, even while punching in security codes. You start wishing you done more about the mess. But hey! The towels are still warm, even if they are wrinkly. You give yourself a mental cookie.
You stop feeling like a total screw-up around the time her shoulders shift and her head pops up. She's not crying anymore and looking kind of cheered up. At least, and cheered up as someone can when you can't see her face.
And then you can see her face as she takes the mask off. Her eyes are red and kind of puffy from the crying and she looks really pale, like her face hasn't seen much daylight. She is hot. And she also looks a lot like Peter. And somehow, she makes those two truths kind of work together.
She pulls the towel a bit tighter around herself and kind of huddles on the bean bag. It's cute. And then she looks at you and it's kind of funny... you get the impression that she knows you. Really well, actually. Finally, she speaks.
"So, I know I'm already imposing and everything, but... hot cocoa? Pretty please?"
She does that exaggerated fluttery eye-lash thing. It's kind of making fun of itself, but it also kind of works.
"Sure. I'll just be a sec. The kitchen's downst--"
"The gourmet stuff, Johnny. The Brazilian chocolate stashed under the bed, please. The day I've had really calls for it."
You freeze.
"How did you know--?"
If she's been spying on you, this can go one of two ways: really flattering or reeaallly creepy.
"You told m--you told Peter about it."
"And Peter tells you everything?"
She smiles.
"Sit down and shut up and I'll tell you everything."
So you sit down (quickly) and shut up (mostly) and she tells you (practically) everything. The whole cloning caboodle. It's quite the mental whammy.
"You'll forgive me if I take, like, a week to absorb that, won't you?"
"Yeah. I also want to apologize for earlier."
Earlier when you set her (his?) hair on fire? That earlier?
"What about it?"
"The crying thing. I... I used to hate it when girls did that. Just randomly... crying. And now I've done it. Granted, superheroes can usually do something about it--like saving their lives or giving them towels, but still--that was probably more awkward for you than it was for me. Or maybe not. I dunno."
You grin.
"I forgive you. Let's look at it as an exercise in embracing your girly-hood."
Her eyes form a narrow line. A very cute (even knowing about the Peter thing--still cute) even line.
"Shut up. I keel you."
You get up to make that chocolate. By the time the water's hot and poured, the awkward is still at low-levels even though the mood is mellow. Before she takes the first sip, you propose a toast.
It's to the last night alone in the rain at 7am that either of you will ever have.
f.i.n.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,206
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: "Hazards & Storms" from Johnny's POV.
So what if Ben's got a new girlfriend? Kudos. Congratulations... you don't don't have a problem with partying alone tonight. Nope. No way. So you ask your sister if she wants to hang out for a while... but Sue's with Reed. Of course. So... with nothing better to do, you give responsibility a try. You do the laundry... sort of. You get as far as taking it out of the dryer, but just dump the rest on your bed. At least it will make your bed warm... not that you need it. It will also make it messy... not that you need it clean for anything.
So you go for a flight. It's only then that you get lucky. She's swinging around tonight. You'd be suspicious of the dark get-up usually, but Peter's mentioned something about her having his seal of approval. Muttered something about them being kind of related. Sounds cool. Or hot, rather. She's got a little bit more of an added sway and shimmy and she plays skyscraper hop-scotch. And you--being Johnny Storm and just plain being a guy--like to watch.
Superheroing knows no nine-to-five, so you don't really know what time it is, but you clue into the fact that it might be really late (or even early) but the way she just starts to move like she's... tired? Exhausted, really. Her muscles start to tremble with each new web, and it seems to take longer to get from structure to structure. And the rain... the rain is probably not helping. You fly closer to invite her to hang out, when she kinda freezes in the air. And you don't. Oops.
She lands on the ground when you set her hair ablaze. You immediately scramble for something to help put it out. Heck, if rain won't do it, pressure will have to, and you kind of doubt more fire from you body is gonna help the situation. She just... stands there. Kind of still. And lets you pat her head like you would pat down a jacket with a stain on it.
Then, your brain finally gets to working, and you realize she's still shaking. And making muffled noises through the mask, almost like she's talking except that she's-- crying. Oh.
Smart, Johnny. Real smart. She's been out here for at least an hour. In the rain. When no baddies are out. Totally aimless. Like she has no where to go. And you, being the ever-so-observant you, have just been ogling her and setting her on fire. Niiiiice. Yeah, you better go into superhero mode STAT, or you're not worth the rubber "4" sewn onto your chest.
You fly with her, trying to carry her all the way in your room, even while punching in security codes. You start wishing you done more about the mess. But hey! The towels are still warm, even if they are wrinkly. You give yourself a mental cookie.
You stop feeling like a total screw-up around the time her shoulders shift and her head pops up. She's not crying anymore and looking kind of cheered up. At least, and cheered up as someone can when you can't see her face.
And then you can see her face as she takes the mask off. Her eyes are red and kind of puffy from the crying and she looks really pale, like her face hasn't seen much daylight. She is hot. And she also looks a lot like Peter. And somehow, she makes those two truths kind of work together.
She pulls the towel a bit tighter around herself and kind of huddles on the bean bag. It's cute. And then she looks at you and it's kind of funny... you get the impression that she knows you. Really well, actually. Finally, she speaks.
"So, I know I'm already imposing and everything, but... hot cocoa? Pretty please?"
She does that exaggerated fluttery eye-lash thing. It's kind of making fun of itself, but it also kind of works.
"Sure. I'll just be a sec. The kitchen's downst--"
"The gourmet stuff, Johnny. The Brazilian chocolate stashed under the bed, please. The day I've had really calls for it."
You freeze.
"How did you know--?"
If she's been spying on you, this can go one of two ways: really flattering or reeaallly creepy.
"You told m--you told Peter about it."
"And Peter tells you everything?"
She smiles.
"Sit down and shut up and I'll tell you everything."
So you sit down (quickly) and shut up (mostly) and she tells you (practically) everything. The whole cloning caboodle. It's quite the mental whammy.
"You'll forgive me if I take, like, a week to absorb that, won't you?"
"Yeah. I also want to apologize for earlier."
Earlier when you set her (his?) hair on fire? That earlier?
"What about it?"
"The crying thing. I... I used to hate it when girls did that. Just randomly... crying. And now I've done it. Granted, superheroes can usually do something about it--like saving their lives or giving them towels, but still--that was probably more awkward for you than it was for me. Or maybe not. I dunno."
You grin.
"I forgive you. Let's look at it as an exercise in embracing your girly-hood."
Her eyes form a narrow line. A very cute (even knowing about the Peter thing--still cute) even line.
"Shut up. I keel you."
You get up to make that chocolate. By the time the water's hot and poured, the awkward is still at low-levels even though the mood is mellow. Before she takes the first sip, you propose a toast.
It's to the last night alone in the rain at 7am that either of you will ever have.
f.i.n.