Work Text:
Sunday Night - Monday
Another day, another half hour spent chasing down and prying a pilfered cash register from an idiot in a domino mask.
"Bodega Bandit," she groans once she's got the register in her arms and he and his adorable fucking hamster are giving her the most pitiful looks. "You're the worst."
(So who got the rawer deal? The Gwen who fell off the bridge or the Gwen who got the Bodega Bandit as her arch-nemesis?)
In the end, she lets him keep the candy bar she had in her bag and fully blames Bandito II for it.
Because fuck. Fuck it.
She's not heartless, okay? Even the Spider-Woman has feelings.
Her reward for returning the cash register ends up being another freaking candy bar anyway, so Gwen figures it works out.
It's that very same candy bar that she's dangling over Murder-Face like string when MJ walks into their practice room. She drops the candy bar on the couch and lets the cat have it for a little while when she moves to grab her drumsticks. They've got a new song to rehearse, something to top Face It, Tiger, and Gwen, for one, wants to get it right.
Not that they get to practice much.
It's not long before it devolves into arguing about the band, about who's pulling their weight and who's not and MJ's stupid, perfect face is twisted into a sneer aimed right at Gwen and. And she gets it. Really, she totally does.
Gwen's been doing the Busy Gwen thing again. Between classes, her new job, the Lizards, that thing with Harry (she'd rather not think about that thing with Harry), and Murderdock hanging around, she's barely had any time for band things. She's barely had any time for sleep. She's just. Too. Busy.
But the thing is. The rest of the Mary Janes don't know, can't know, why she's so busy and it is seriously, seriously, messing her up here.
And it keeps making MJ yell at her and it is the fucking worst.
So she ends up yelling right back at MJ, after she has enough of just. Not saying anything. And that should probably concern her. She doesn't usually fight back against MJ, doesn't really bother to, but today's just... just.
Betty's giving them alarmed looks and Glory's looking like she's about two seconds away from tearing her hair out, but.
Whatever. Who cares. Totally normal.
"Just leave then!" MJ yells at one point, her stupid, perfect face almost as red as her hair. "You obviously don't care about this band right now, you never do."
"Fine!" Gwen practically shrieks back. It's the very height of maturity, if she does say so herself. Totally being the bigger person here. "I care about this band plenty! But you're just being a fucking dictator here!" Her voice cracks at the end, because not even the Spider-Woman is immune to sounding like an idiot. Apparently.
MJ actually looks surprised at that, falling completely silent.
That just spurs Gwen on. "I'll leave right now! It's not like we're getting any practicing done anyway."
Without another word, she grabs her stuff (and the candy bar, sorry, Murder-Face), turns right back around, and goes home and takes a damn nap.
Bodega Bandit strikes again that night.
Fuck.
Tuesday
Gwen wakes up to a text from Glory the next morning, about the argument yesterday.
It's actually a pretty nice, understanding text, all considered, and Gwen texts back an apology, along with a promise to try to be more available. She knows Glory's frustrated with her AWOL act, too.
Of course, she gets no word from MJ. As usual. Because heaven freaking forbid Mary Jane Watson ever acknowledge she might have been in the wrong.
It's just her luck then that she sees her anyway.
Gwen runs into her when she's dashing to class, MJ on her way to her own class, she's sure. Because she's trying to be an adult and the bigger person and whatever here, Gwen stops as soon as she spots MJ, plastering on an awkward smile before she's opening her mouth to speak, to break the ice somehow, and--
MJ totally brushes her off.
She doesn't even look directly at Gwen, just raises an eyebrow, her lip curling into a sneer, and turns on her heel, as if Gwen were no more important than any other rando she could run into on her way to class, and a particularly unpleasant-looking one at that.
Then MJ doesn't even show up to their philosophy class, where they usually sit together, and seriously? Seriously? She'd go this far just to avoid her after a stupid argument that was her fault anyway?!
Totally. Not. Cool.
Gwen ends up spending an hour and a half just silently fuming, to the background of the professor going on about Saint Augustine or something. She doesn't know. He and his anguish can stuff it, it can't compare to the sheer anguish of even knowing Mary Jane fucking Watson.
To add insult to injury, she runs into Captain America that night. And Gwen likes Cap, really, but she still seems determined to bring in Spider-Woman and she kinda' can't let that happen.
Cap's lugging around some trigger-happy kid, too, and that.
That's just not cool. What the fuck?
Captain America has a sidekick? Why doesn't Gwen have a sidekick? Maybe she should get a sidekick, too? Should she get a sidekick, too? Is there, like, some superhero test she needs to pass before she can get one? Or is it just dumb luck?
Jesus, where's a radioactive spider willing to bite a small child when you need it? A conveniently orphaned prodigy? A street kid with a heart of gold? Where's her Spider-Girl or Spider-Boy? The Ladybug to her Spider-Woman?
Definitely not helping her get away from Captain America and Captain America's mini sidekick, that's for sure. Little Ladybug's going to have to do some serious apologizing for not saving her skin here, whenever she materializes somewhere.
(Gwen hopes it's soon.)
She ends up in Bodega Bandit's dumpster at one point during the chase.
Fuck.
(But she gets away.)
Wednesday
Normally, Gwen likes MJ. Seriously, even if it might not seem that way sometimes. They've been friends for a while now, and not even just because of the band or Glory and Betty. It just kind of happened, their friendship, and it's been pretty nice. MJ's smart, she's funny when the mood strikes her, and she can be kind when she wants to.
Seriously.
As unbelievable as it sounds even to her sometimes.
The problem is Gwen just wants to strangle MJ half the time, too, for being so... so... so MJ.
MJ with her stupid attitude, her stupid, pretty hair, her stupid need to always be the center of attention, and her stupid, stupid gorgeous eyes--
Gwen groans, pulling her pillow over her head.
Okay, so that's a thing--that's a problem--too. Has been for a while.
Because, normally, Gwen likes MJ. Seriously. They've been friends for a while now. She's smart, she's funny when the mood strikes her, and she can be kind when she wants to--and she's fucking gorgeous. And Gwen's had a huge, fucking crush on her for almost as long as they've been friends.
Because this just has to be Gwen's life.
Because stupid, sexy MJ is ruining her life almost as much as the Bodega Bandit. And Gwen. She never asked for a lot of things. She never asked for her mom to die, she never asked to be bitten by a radioactive spider, not for Peter to die, not to end up in some alt-universe thing and. They all happened anyway. But what she especially never asked for was to get all bickering love interest with Mary Jane Watson, okay?! Because she doesn't care how the movies portray it, how it's in every cheap romance novel, every daytime drama... It's not fun. It's tiring and downright infuriating and, at the end of the day, Gwen still can't get the girl.
She has no idea if MJ feels the same way, tries not to think about it too hard, in fact. How could MJ feel the same way, when--smart, funny, and kind when she wants to be aside--she seems to forget they're friends half the time anyway?
It's just not happening.
So. Fuck MJ, but also fuck MJ, you know?
It's another while before Gwen manages to roll out of bed, the sound of both Betty and Murder-Face snoring following her as she stumbles out of the room.
Much as she'd like to stay in bed all day, especially with no class on Wednesdays, she's got a job to get to. Before she goes and gets her ass fired for always being late or downright nonexistent.
And if with the week she's having, Gwen's a little warier than usual when she walks in the shop, looking over her shoulder at every corner lest the Bodega Bandit or Cap make a reappearance?
Well, that's her business, thank you.
Except. Work's actually peaceful. Her afternoon, her evening, is actually freaking peaceful for one, and she almost lets herself hope this will be the night. This will be the night Spider-Woman can take it easy and she can actually go home in time, actually say good night to Betty and Murder-Face before she stumbles face-first into bed. Maybe she'll even get to watch a movie with her this time, or catch some time to talk to Glory, all before the next band practice on Thursday.
It's freaking perfect. She can just about picture it.
So it figures that, the moment her shift's over and she's pulling off her apron, it's Murderdock she sees casually strolling inside, as if he had not a care in the world.
She ends up hiding out in the freezer at the back, hands pressed to her mouth (Don't speak, don't speak, he'll recognize your voice--), until he finally leaves, just as casually as he came in.
Without even buying anything.
Fuck.
Thursday
On Thursday, MJ actually bothers to show up to philosophy.
And to think Gwen had almost forgotten.
(Ha. As if.)
MJ doesn't look at her, doesn't speak to her like she normally does, doesn't speak to anyone, really. She spends the three minutes and forty-seven seconds (Gwen counted, thank you very much) between her taking her seat and the professor showing up in silence, her eyes glued to her phone and her fingers flying over it as she rapidly texts someone.
Which is just. Great, really. Great!
And if Gwen doesn't pay attention to a single word about Saint Augustine again, spending her whole time squeezing her pen within an inch of its little plastic life, well. Really. Who gives a freaking crap about him? Who can even blame her?
When she's got to deal with the most difficult woman to walk the earth?!
So sue her if she doesn't notice right away when class lets out and everyone around her's already halfway out the door, as eager for freedom from required philosophy courses as she is.
Except for MJ. Of course.
She's taking her sweet time gathering her stuff, hiking her bag up on her shoulder, and she still won't even look at Gwen and Gwen just. She can't do this.
"MJ," she finally manages to bite out, slowly rising to her feet.
MJ freezes halfway through snapping her bag shut, her back going rigid. But she doesn't say anything, doesn't verbally acknowledge her in any way.
"MJ," Gwen repeats, firmer this time, more confident than she really feels. She's gotta get this right. "Look, I just wanna talk. You know, that thing friends do? And that we haven't done all week?"
MJ sniffs and finally, finally, looks over her shoulder at Gwen, her features arranged into a (very pretty, how the hell--) scowl. "Not while you still can't take anything seriously," she hisses and, just like that, she's gone, practically gliding out the door.
But that's. That's fine. They've still got band practice, right? Every Thursday night? MJ may not even want to speak to her right now, but she can't ignore her forever once they're all stuck in the same room, having to actually work together. So it's fine.
She's got this. Totally got this.
Turns out though. Gwen doesn't even make it to practice for the Mary Janes. There's a little Lizard problem to take care of that ends up taking half the night and, by the time she stumbles into her bed, she's got a text from Glory telling her MJ's on the warpath. Again.
Fuck.
Friday
It all comes to a head on Friday.
She's got work first thing and it's. Not awful. The customers are as unrowdy as they ever get and Murderdock doesn't show up at the end of it again. So she lets that easy shift lull her into a false sense of security. Because Gwen's a fucking idiot or something, apparently. As if anything about her life could ever be freaking easy.
Because the moment she steps out of the shop, her phone already halfway out of her bag to text Glory about the practice she missed yesterday, she hears it.
And feels it.
When some asshole running in the opposite direction knocks her flat on her ass.
"Hey!" she yelps, scrambling to her feet. Thanks for nothing, spider reflexes. "What's the big idea?! Watch--"
Gwen stumbles, some woman's bag hitting her dead fucking center in the chest as she pushes past her.
Okay.
Ouch.
Rubbing a hand into her sternum, she turns, and that's when she sees it. People. Running. In her direction.
And Murderdock's goons.
Great.
Yeah.
She just fucking knows what this is.
If it's got the people in this city in a freaking tizzy, yeah. Yeah.
Before anyone else can run into her, she ducks back into the shop and its filthy little bathroom (don't touch anything, don't touch anything, don't touch anything--) and pulls on her costume, then zips out the of the shop again before anyone (her boss) can see her.
She hopes.
Then it's just a matter of a few swings and she's up on the rooftops just in time to see Cap yell something at a smirking Murderdock, her annoying little sidekick on another rooftop behind her, and.
Seriously? Seriously? All three of them?
How is this her life?!
"Keep it together, keep it together," she mutters to herself. Maybe if she's fast enough while helping Cap, she won't end up in cuffs again. Maybe.
Gotta try, huh?
She inches forward on her own rooftop and slowly, trying not to catch any of the odd trio's attention just yet, she aims for Murderdock's rooftop, just... Just a little to the left of him. If she can just swing there, she'll have enough time to get in on the action and--
A scream rents the air, loud and piercing enough to shatter Gwen's concentration. She grips the edge of the roof and looks down.
And there's Mary Jane fucking Watson falling over in the street under them, one of Murderdock's goons right behind her, the crowd still running, and.
Why.
Why why why is this her life?!
That's when her friends up on the rooftops choose to notice her, too, of course, because MJ just had to totally shoot her every bit of caution to hell and damnit, she wasn't ready yet!
"Spider-Woman!" Murderdock calls out and how the hell he knows it's her she doesn't even want to know.
She stands, spreading her arms, half a frantic, frantic, frantic eye on where Murderdock's goon is shoving MJ roughly out of the way as she tries to stand. Ohhh, the asshole.
"Murderdock!" she calls out cheerfully, instead of dropping down to kick that guy's face in. "It's a regular family reunion here! I'd love to stay for the gift exchange, but I've got places to be and I think Cap's got this covered!"
"Spider-Woman! Hold it!" Cap herself yells after her, just as Gwen fucking dives off her rooftop, to where MJ hasn't quite managed to stand yet in the commotion.
It'll be fine. Right? It'll be totally fine. Cap's on the job! All she's gotta do is punch Murderdock in the face and his goons'll totally disappear. Right? Spider-Woman's just gotta save one woman, the only woman on the ground right now, from getting trampled. And she won't even end up in cuffs again. Easy, right?
Gwen lands easily, right where she wanted, and rolls to stand right behind MJ, grabbing her arm to haul her up. Her movements quick, Gwen gets her back on her feet and wraps an arm around MJ's waist.
"Hold on," she grunts and aims for the nearest rooftop--that's in the opposite direction from the Three Stooges, thank you very much.
"What the hell?" MJ gasps out, but throws her arms around Gwen anyway, holding on tight. "The hell are you?!"
"Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman!" Gwen says, as she swings them both onto the rooftop, and actually feels a little smooth for it.
Nice.
Then MJ's face slackens in surprise.
Gwen realizes her mistake.
Oh no. Oh no. No. She's an idiot. A grade A capital I idiot. The biggest of all.
She didn't even try to disguise her voice.
And no way, no. That can't be recognition dawning in her eyes, no, no, no.
"Just! Saving pretty girls in danger!" Gwen blurts out, desperately trying to deepen her voice an octave to disguise it. How is this her life? She moves faster, swinging them from rooftop to rooftop and, fuck it, in the direction of MJ's apartment.
Spidey senses totally told her where to find it. Totally.
"What the fuck, Gwen?" MJ hisses and Gwen tries very, very hard not to look at her.
She is so fucked. So fucking fucked.
This wasn't how she wanted to die?!
MJ, to her credit, falls silent when Gwen doesn't answer and doesn't like. Scream. Or anything. Not even when Gwen accidentally kind of sort of almost pitches them to their death when her lack of focus means they almost slide off one rooftop.
MJ only holds on tighter and glares at her, that glare that tells Gwen she absolutely expected something like this to happen.
But she doesn't speak again, not until they're at her window.
Well. Till they're at her neighbor's window.
"To the left," MJ says, unimpressed and damn. Even Spider-Woman isn't immune to that.
Soon enough though, they're stumbling into MJ's empty living room and Gwen.
Immediately turns around and leaps for the window.
"Gwen!"
One leg already halfway out the window again, her hands on either side of the frame, Gwen freezes and slowly, painfully slow, turn to look over her shoulder at MJ.
"Gwen?" she asks weakly. "Wrong person, miss."
MJ crosses her arms. "Cut the crap. You think I wouldn't recognize your voice?"
"Uh... Yes?"
"Tough luck then." MJ sneers and motions at her with two fingers. "Come in here. I know you."
Great. Now someone else knows who she is.
And it's Mary Jane Watson.
Gwen sighs and, with one last longing look out the window, rolls back inside.
Yeah, she's not going to be able to make this go away. Time to face the music.
She spreads her arms once she's standing in front of MJ again and, more cheerful than she feels, says, "Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman at your service!"
"What the hell is this?" MJ hisses, throwing out an arm. "You're playing at freakin' superhero now? How? Is this..." MJ stops, her eyes widening in realization. Again.
Not good.
"Is this why you keep running out on us? Canceling all the time? Jesus Christ, Gwen, you're out there trying to get yourself killed instead of with us?"
"I'm out there helping people?" Gwen says loudly and, oh here it is. She feels it the instant the atmosphere turns sour(er). It's Monday all over again and, Jesus, she's usually good at not actually arguing with MJ. "If I can do this--"
MJ shakes her head sharply. "Take off that freakin' mask if we're talking about this. I'm talking to Gwen freakin' Stacy, not... The Spider-Woman," she says disdainfully.
Gwen practically rips off her mask, shaking her head. "The Spider-Woman's been helping people!"
"The Spider-Woman's been neglecting her friends, her closest friends to try to get herself killed every night!"
"I've been saving people, MJ!" Gwen yells, balling her hands into fists, the mask getting balled up right alongside them. "You saw what was going on there! If Cap hadn't been there, I'm the one who'd have saved all those people! It's, like... With great power comes great responsibility and shit, you know?!"
"Stuff the responsibility! You could be with us instead! Safe! Who's been saving you!" MJ's face has turned red and blotchy again, her face twisted into a furious scowl and. Has she... actually been worried about her?
"Spider-Ham?"
"What?!"
"Nothing! This is something I've gotta do, MJ. It's all that hero's call crap!"
"Yeah. Yeah. This is something you've gotta do. And you're gonna get yourself killed for it!" MJ shrieks and she moves.
Next thing Gwen knows, MJ's got her hands wrapped around Gwen's arms, her face twisted into an expression she can't recognize.
Then her lips are on Gwen's and.
That's new.
Okay.
She can roll with this.
It's not a gentle kiss. MJ kisses her hard enough to bruise, her hands gripping tight enough to bruise her arms even through her costume. Their teeth knock against each other, MJ bites her bottom lip so hard Gwen actually yelps, drawing what Gwen could swear is a delighted laugh from MJ and.
It's perfect.
When Gwen finally manages to gather her wits enough to reciprocate, she kisses back just as hard, dives in to deepen the kiss, to match every single bite and nip. She tangles a hand in MJ's hair, slides her other arm around her waist, just as MJ's hands slide around to rest at her collarbone, gripping the fabric of her costume tightly.
With a gasp, MJ pulls back and stares at Gwen with wide, wide eyes.
"What the hell was that?" Gwen manages to pant, shaking her head slowly. She doesn't let go of MJ.
"What?" MJ tosses her hair, all haughty confidence. All haughty confidence if one doesn't know MJ anyway. Gwen can see the edge of insecurity to her, to the way she clenches her jaw and narrows her eyes. "You're gonna tell me you don't want this? Want me?"
"Not if you don't want me!" Gwen blurts out and that's. Not smooth. Not smooth at all. Can she go back to being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman?
"Who says I don't?" MJ asks, eyes flashing.
"What?"
"I wanted to kiss you," MJ says slowly, gritting her teeth as if she resented even having to say it. "Have wanted to for a while. And I want to kiss you again. And again. And a hell of a lot more times. If the great Spider-Woman'll have me."
"Oh. Yeah. Hell yeah?"
"Good." MJ raises an eyebrow at her, lips curling into a smirk and says, "And as a bonus, you can't get yourself killed now," then tugs her back in for another kiss.
Fuck.
Saturday
In the end, she. Kind of doesn't leave MJ's apartment all day Saturday.
Fuck yeah.