Spooktober 06: Crimson

a/n: decided to give peter a break from the stabbing. have a nice little oneshot of a very flustered michelle jones instead

To make one thing very very clear, Michelle Jones knows that she can be difficult at times. She struggles with plenty of her relationships; snarks to people she wants to be friends with, doesn't believe it when people show signs of enjoying her company, and sure, she may have a bit of a problem with trusting people not to let her down. 

She's always preferred the much safer approach to friendship, the quiet lingering in the background, the listening, the studying, the paying close attention. She'll put the stones in someone else's hands, say she won't care, and wait for when someone finally notices that she cares actually a whole lot. She lived under the strong thought process that whoever noticed would be worth trying for, and would save her the grief of betrayal for those who would have disappointed. 

Then, sophomore year. 

As it turned out, all the people she considers her closest friends almost dying at one, treacherous, traumatic time made for an uncomfortable series of revelations. She isn't afraid to admit that standing there at the bottom of the Washington Monument, seeing it crack and crumble, she learned that the grief would come anyways.

So, she made a conscious effort to break out, little bits of thorn breaking off from her metaphorical walls and the vines breaking loose with every time she chose not to hide a book or a mug of tea. 

She befriended Abraham, Sally, Charles, Cindy... Betty took a bit more time, because she was closed off after Liz's sudden departure, and MJ could understand that. She had felt that loss too, having only relied on the small circle that was their team for comfort and, admittedly, a sense of family.

She even befriended Flash, she can't actually say for sure if that was through helping him in study sessions or her thinly-veiled threats of encouragement about Decathlon needing all of its members to be participating at their best. Either way, he's usually the first to laugh when she cracks a joke, and MJ appreciates that more than she thought she could.

Then came Ned Leeds and Peter Parker, who were strange to an excessive amount. They interested MJ the most, particularly Peter, who seemed to have a pension for keeping secrets. MJ loved secrets. Even better, she liked sniffing them out.

It took a while for her to naturally fall in with their tightly-knit duo, but once Ned stopped giving her suspicious looks, she was welcomed with open arms. Literally. MJ had a reputation, and it seemed Peter didn't care in the slightest given by the constant nudges and side-eyes in class. 

It was comradery, it was partnership, it was connection. It was-- well, it was friendship.

Then sometime over the summer, MJ started noticing something horrible. Something truly, truly awful. Peter had started making her jittery. 

He'd send her a two-am text of something that was downright moronic, something that should have her rolling her eyes, and instead she only found her face all warm and her cheeks hurting because she was smiling at whatever stupid thing he said. 

Or he'd be late to whatever movie they were going to see with Ned, and instead of being annoyed or teasing him about it with her usual sarcasm, she'd just wait outside the theatre and try not to swoon about the melted vegan chocolate Peter would pull out of his pocket for her, because 'they don't offer any at the movie counter, so I took a detour and got some from that store you like.'

Naturally, there was only one conclusion for this. She would just ignore it. If there was anything she had practice at, it was shoving all her emotions in a box and then pointedly looking away from it.

Cut to Friday, and Peter had the sweetest idea to invite her to a family dinner at the Parker residence. In the group chat, this was followed by a lengthy chat about whether May would be cooking, which Peter assured she would not be, but his boss would, whatever that meant. Ned had been invited too, but he couldn't make it because of... she can't even remember. But she's annoyed.

Thank you, Leeds, Michelle sighs internally. She knocks on the door.

She would say that she didn't know what she was expecting when it opened, but that would be a lie. What she expected was May, her bright smile, an immediate hug welcoming her in, or even Peter, with the same thing, albeit with a lot more internal panic on MJ's part.

She can't say she expected Iron Man.

"Hi," he greets, a shiny grin on his face. He has greying hair. He has the same stupid goatee from the news. He's wearing May's mustard-colored apron, which has at least one stain of actual mustard, and he looks ridiculously domestic. "You must be Michelle."

'Peter's boss' now makes a lot more sense. MJ clicks her mouth shut, because she refuses to look shocked by this turn of events. She nods once. 

"Dinner's just been finished," Tony Stark says, and steps to the side, so MJ walks in and slips her shoes off at the door. Tony Stark, she notes, is also not wearing shoes, but wearing wool socks that probably cost more than her entire outfit, which she realizes isn't saying much because most of her clothes are thrifted, but still. "Don't worry, I cooked."

"I have no idea if that's less worrying or not," MJ says blankly, "I've never had your cooking."

"He didn't cook," Peter rushes in to the hallway, wild-eyed. His hair is sticking up in all odd places because he didn't gel it down like he usually does. MJ's mouth twitches, but she refuses to smile. "He did not  cook. I was lied to. Pepper cooked, and then he heated up in the oven, and I had to help him with that."

MJ looks over at Tony Stark with narrowed eyes. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, it was either that or takeout. And I did help Pep make it, she just was very... watchful."

"Tell Ms. Potts I said thank you," MJ says politely. She's trying to be on her best behavior, watching all her words very carefully. Putting her biases of super corporations and their CEOs aside, Peter knows all these people personally. He doesn't put his respect and trust in just anybody, and this is apparently his family. 

"Is MJ here?" May calls out from the kitchen. "Come on in, I've just finished setting the plates!"

Peter gives her an embarrassed smile and nods his head in the direction of the table. MJ follows him in.

The Parker table is small, shaped sort of like a diner's booth. There's usually a thing of condiments in the center, but it's been moved to the counter to make room for the four plates. On the stove, something in a ceramic dish smells good.

"Pete told me you had some dietary stuff, so we made a mushroom stroganoff sort of deal," Stark explains, dishing some onto a plate. He sets it off to the side and grabs another plate, and then flashes another smaller smile. "Hope it's okay."

"Oh," MJ says, pleasantly surprised. "Er... Thank you. I'm sure it'll be good."

Peter hands her one of the plates and then grabs the second one that's been filled, then they both squish together onto one side of the table. May and Tony crowd in at the other side.

"What were you gonna do if Ned came?" MJ jokes quietly. 

Peter grins. "Eat in the living room."

A laugh bubbles out, and she quickly stuffs her mouth with food. Peter looks incredibly pleased with himself and turns back to his plate, the grin only brightening. 

"So," May says, clearing her throat. Her eyes are bright and she leans across the table. "Peter told me you applied for that art contest last week, have you heard back at all?"

"Oh," MJ swallows her food and nods. "Uh, yeah. I actually--" her eyes flick to Peter nervously. He's watching her with full attention, like he's hanging on her every word. "They're meant to contact me when the exhibit happens, but they said they, uh, really liked my presentation."

"Wait, really?" Peter says, his fork clinging against his plate. He sounds so happy  for her, and MJ's stomach keeps doing flips under the table. "That's amazing! I told you they would! I'm always right, you gotta stop doubting me."

"You're definitely not always right," MJ cuts in, feeling her face a blotchy crimson. She opens her mouth to say an example of one of the many times Peter was hilariously wrong to back up her argument.

"Uh, I am with you," Peter says, which stuns whatever she was about to say into silence. Well, if "silence" meant that she nearly choked on her words and was reduced to impolite splutters. Because that's exactly what happened. Damn you, Parker.

She catches Tony Stark's eyes across the table, which is an insane thing to say, and is properly horrified when she sees a very particular amusement in his eyes as he looks between the two of them.

"Whatever," she quickly says, her voice hoarse from coughing. She nods in May's direction. "The point is, yes. I've heard back. Thank you for asking."

May smiles knowingly. "That's amazing, your art is fantastic. I'm very proud, I hope you are too, honey."

MJ nods. 

"What kind of things do you draw?" Tony Stark asks her, and again, weird. But he looks genuinely curious and was making an effort to try to get to know her, because of course, their only connection here was their mutual contacts. 

MJ tries not to feel smug about that. Yes, she was having dinner with an ex-CEO of a multi-billion dollar industry, but he was at their table, and he was asking about her artwork-- and he better  like it, because any connection with Peter was better than nothing at all in the world, probably.

Wow.

MJ blinks several times. She tries to remember what she was just asked.

Oh, right.

"People," she says, selecting a mask of indifference and unorthodoxy; one of her favourites. She hopes her stare bores into Tony Stark's brain. "I draw the complex emotions portrayed by humanity when they believe they aren't being watched. They never know that I'm always watching."

Tony meets her stare with the same indifference in his eyes. "Do you enjoy it?"

MJ stares a moment longer. Tony smiles at her. Mask for mask. Mutual understanding. She makes a vague noise of intrigue and settles back, relaxing back into herself. "Yes."

Peter furrows his eyebrows. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Tony asks coolly. He takes another bite of his food.

"I feel like I just watched some kind of standoff," Peter says, looking at the both of them. "May, are they competing for dominance or something? Who won?"

"I believe they tied," May said wisely, nursing sips from a glass of wine. She's inspecting both of them as well, but there's a glint of beguilement in her eyes, and her mouth is quirked in a smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," MJ says, just as blankly. "We're only talking about art."

"Right," Peter trails off, keeping his eyes on her. When she doesn't crack, he snorts, and looks away. "We should go see your exhibit when it's open. Mr. Stark, would you wanna go to something like that?"

"Of course," Tony says honestly. "I love art. I'd love to see it."

"Are there any of me?" Peter asks, nudging MJ with his knee. He has a shit-eating grin on his face. MJ wants to sink into the floor.

"Oh?" May sounds delighted. "Have you drawn Peter before?"

"When he looks especially miserable," MJ says tightly, elbowing Peter back. Her cheeks are hot again. She's sure it's visible. She's desperately trying to forget about the damn box.

"That's not true! There was that one when I was smiling!" Peter argues, and he doesn't even look like he knows what he's doing, because he's sort of an oblivious, excitable dog in that way. MJ does, though, and so does Tony, if the look he's giving and his pointed silence is saying anything.

There's not just one, MJ wants to say. There's too many. I keep thinking that if I draw you enough I'll eventually want to stop.

Instead, she says, very calmly: 

"There's one."

"What's it called?" Tony speaks up. He's got a smirk on his face. She does not approve.

MJ smirks. "Caught in a web."

And with that, food is sprayed all over the table.

She thinks she'll come back next week, too.