Chapter Text
When MJ’s contract with Captain Rogers ended she had a list of offers as long as her arm. She and her agent - who seemed immensely grateful MJ was sticking with her despite being both famous and a Tony winner now - managed to whittle it down to a short list, which she took home and obsessed over until both Peter and her dad were tired of hearing about it. She had almost decided on rolling the dice on another new show that sounded promising when one more offer rolled in.
Someone was doing a revival of Wicked and wanted her as their Elphaba.
She spent another year being painted green and belting to the rafters and loving every minute of it. It was, in many ways, the best year of her life. Her father moved out of the Tower into his own place, still working with Jorge and Wyatt on the jet. She got Mimi a friend, a little tortoiseshell tabby with boundless energy that seemed to draw the other cat out of her shell. Peter suggested the name Galinda in honor of her current show and it stuck, despite MJ’s dislike of mixing shows.
The Tony’s nominated her and the show for best revival, so she got to show Peter off and wear an awesome dress bought with the help of the Tower ladies. Afterwards he took her home via webslinger and they made out on the top of the Empire State building before she got too cold to be amorous.
There were emergencies and missions and quiet nights at home and through it all they loved and laughed and fought and talked.
After a year, eight performances a week started to take their toll on her voice and body, so she took her final bow as Elphaba and turned down the stack of offers in favor of a couple months off. She hung out with the other girls, traveled all over the world with Peter, and - at the urging of her agent - recorded an album of her favorite showtunes, which did far better on the charts than she’d ever expected.
Restlessness was starting to set in when she got a very interesting call from her agent.
“So I got a new offer today,” she told Peter as he helped her shred chicken for tacos. Ordering out all the time had started to take a toll on her hips and get her glares from the costumer, so she’d tried learning to cook. Peter had gamely helped and between them they had about a dozen relatively easy dishes they could throw together.
He looked up at her. “Thinking about going back to the stage?”
“Actually, this was an audition for a movie.” She looked over at him. “Musical of PT Barnum’s life. They want me to play a trapeze artist.” Grinning, she added, “The casting agent wanted to make sure I wasn’t scared of heights.”
Peter looked at her for a moment, then laughed out loud. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”
“Yep. I laughed and asked if she knew who my boyfriend was.”
He took the bowl of chicken to season it. “So you want to do it?”
“I have to fly to LA to audition and do some line readings with the people they’ve already cast, but yeah, I think I want to give it a try. I may hate it, but it sounds like a good part and it’s got singing and dancing that I’m comfortable with.”
“Will you film in LA?”
“They said a couple weeks in LA for green screen stuff, but there’ll be location shoots in New York and I can do all my song recording here.”
“Whatever you need.” He grinned. “My job is pretty portable.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Think you can talk Stark into letting us borrow his Malibu house?”
“Well. I am his favorite.”
She flew out alone the next week for her audition and screen test. It would have been nice if the casting director had warned her the co-stars would be Hugh Jackman and a guy from a Disney show that had been her first pre-teen crush, but she managed to tamp down the fan girl enough to get through the reading.
One the jet home she got the call offering her the part. “Shooting starts in October, so you have a month to learn some arial moves. We’ll set you up with a trainer -“
“Nah,” she said. “I have a hook up. Just send me some videos of what you want me to do.”
“Are. . . are you sure?”
“Yeah. If I have any problems I’ll let you know, but I promise I’ll come ready to swing.”
Peter met her at the Wife Line and swung her in a circle like she’d been gone for months. “Hello, tiger. How would you feel about teaching me how to be an acrobat?”
“Sounds like something in my skillset.”
The director and stunt coordinator got in touch with her and sent her some videos and storyboards, all of which Peter agreed he could teach her. They set up a little rig in one of the basement gyms and she started working on her core and upper arm strength, which meant she spent several days with spaghetti arms before he even hooked her up to a rope.
Most of her stunts were while singing a duet with Mr. Disney Channel, which was rather convenient, since Peter could stand in for him.
“We should run away,” she told him, dangling off one of his web threads after doing a perfect launch into his arms. “Join the circus.”
“Do people still do that?”
“No, I think they all closed down. Animal cruelty.” She kissed him and he gripped her hand, lowering her to the ground before following her. “The director has asked for some videos of us working.” She air quoted. “‘To make sure I’m keeping up.’”
He grinned at her. “You wanna show off?”
“A little bit, yeah.” The moves they’d sent her were pretty simple. No flips or jumps or anything. Alone with a trainer, she’d have been content to stick with them. But she had a private gym and an Avenger training her. She probably could join an acrobatic show by now. “I’m hoping they give me some more stuff to do if I prove I can do it. I don’t know if they have Oscars for stunt work, but I want one.”
“They still worried about you and heights?”
“Their last two emails reminded me that while I would have a harness there wouldn’t be a net. I really want to send them a picture of that rig you hooked up between us and the Chrysler building. Might make their insurance people freak out, though.”
“I could make a net.”
“I think a video of me showing off in here will suffice.”
“C’mon, I could have Nate come out in his suit and film us.”
She suspected he just wanted to show her off a bit, but she was an easy sell. “Okay, if you insist.”
He kissed her. “I’ll get started on the net," he said.
It was cold and windy, but the footage they got was fantastic. They did a variation of all the stunts they’d asked for, plus a handful more she’d been working on. She was due out in LA in a little over a week to start filming and was probably over prepared.
The next day - before she’d gotten a reply from the director - Darcy appeared in their training room. “Why am I getting phone calls about people hanging off our building.”
Peter turned and looked at her. “I climb the building all the time.”
“Police got multiple report of two people between out building and the Chrystler. Thought it might be a suicide risk. Fortunately our cops are used to this, but the call volume made them cranky.”
“Nate was out there with us,” he offered.
“Next time just warn me, okay? I’ll sell tickets.”
“That’s probably in violation of something I signed,” MJ said.
“You and your conflicts of interest.”
“You like it even less when lawyers call you,” Peter pointed out.
She waved a dismissive hand at him. “Wyatt wants you to confirm when you’re flying out and Stark says you’re good to stay at the Malibu place, but if you’re there in November you may get some roommates.”
“We’ll manage, it’s got like 8 bedrooms.”
“No hotel,” MJ said with a little dance after Darcy had ducked back out. “You come with so many perks.”
“It’s certainly nicer than a hotel, I’ll tell you that.”
Boy, was it. They flew out a few days later so she could hit the costume department, learn her choreography, and spend a couple of days in rehearsals with her actual co-star. Stark’s Malibu place was like something out of a magazine, all glass and metal and sweeping views. It had a god dammed elevator, but it went down to his mad scientist lair, so MJ stayed out of it.
Meeting the rest of the movie people was fun. Most of the other circus people were really theater people. She and the woman playing the bearded lady had been at the same Tony’s together and most of the other dancers had done touring shows. There were several loud, excited conversations while they figured out who knew each other by how many degrees of separation.
She also got the usual parade of people—starting with the director—who really, really wanted to meet Peter. Spiderman’s fan club rivaled Cap’s in his prime, only Peter seemed far more comfortable making endless conversation with strangers.
“We could throw a cast party,” he suggested one evening. “Embrace another layer of your memories of high school drama.”
“We do have a house for it,” she said, glancing out at the view. “You think Stark would okay it?”
“He loves a good party. I will still feel like a teenager throwing an illicit party, though. Which might be part of the experience.”
“As long as we embrace the weird nostalgia of it, it’s okay.”
“Good booze, though, yeah?”
“That is a part of the high school experience I do not need to replicate, thank you.”
He grinned. “I think it will be fun.”
First she had to get through filming, which was also fun in a different way. Working on a film was way different from plays. It was more truncated and chopped up, but oddly more intimate as well. The green screens poking up around the set were new and kind of flourescently distracting, but she got used to it. It was no different than a play on a barebones stage, really.
She spent several days on wires doing her stunts and another long one filming her duet with Mr. Disney. It involved a lot of crashing into each other on ropes and giggling, but from what she saw of the dailies, it would look amazing.
They had a couple weeks of on-site shooting to do in December, but a few days before the set wrap she handed out invites to the official Stark-approved cast and crew party and got to feel a bit like the popular kid she’d never been in school. Maybe Peter had something in this high school do-over stuff.
In private he was entirely the dork she’d grown up with, and she tended to forget he was famous. If she was the popular kid, her boyfriend was the quarterback of the football team. (Football actually hadn’t been real big at their high school—like a lot of urban schools—but she was going with “stereotypical” concepts). Movie stars were jealous of her. It was kind of a cool.
She’d been kind of dreading the party, but Peter - with a lot of help from someone’s assistant, she was guessing - had organized the whole thing. Including a caterer and DJ. All they had to do was dress up and schmooze, which was well within her skillset.
She found him on one of the house’s many ocean-facing decks halfway through the party, taking a breather from the guests. He grinned at her. “Having fun?”
“Surprisingly. Though I think I’m going to be done with this party long before they are.” She leaned on the railing next to him. “It’s rude for the hostess to hide in her bedroom two thirds of the way through the night, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” He squinted a moment. “I could pull the fire alarm.”
He would, too, she had no doubt. “Nah. Then the fire department would come and we still wouldn’t get any privacy.”
“Tony told me they won’t come out here anymore unless one of the neighbors feels their house is in danger.”
MJ laughed. “Of course.” She tucked against his side and he put an arm around her. “This was a nice break, but I’m looking forward to going home. Our comfy apartment with our cats.”
“I miss the city,” he said. “This is too much. . . space.”
“Poor Peter. LA was not made for spidermen.”
“I miss climbing things, too.” He looked down out at the water. “Guess I could climb down there. Rock face hurts my hands, though.”
“We fly home day after tomorrow.” She paused. “I guess we could try to go out tomorrow instead. What’s the point of private jets if you don’t randomly change your schedule now and then?”
“No, no, I was fine with our plans to spend tomorrow in bed, and then fly.”
“All right.” She kissed him. “Come on, tiger. I’ll buy you a drink.”
He pulled her close. “You know how to show a guy a good time.”
The party lasted well into the night and they spent the next day in bed, as promised, with a brief trip to the pool for her to get a little more sun before returning to the frigid east.
“I will miss the little shorts,” Peter told her as they boarded the plane home.
“They will reemerge in the spring,” she promised. “Like snow drops and sparrows.”
“When the weather is nicer, we should go dance between the buildings again.”
“I’d like that.” They settled in their seats as the flight crew puttered around them. “I had fun learning how to do tricks with you. I’d like to stay in practice.”
“Maybe people will stop calling 911 if we do it often enough.”
“Darcy may start charging tickets, though.”
“We could donate the proceeds to charity. Gymnastics classes for disadvantaged kids.”
“You know, you could do that. Host classes for kids.”
He shook his head. “I think I’m a terrible teacher.”
“You taught me. Like, really well. You impressed the stunt guys.”
“I know, but I like you.” He looked at her a moment. “You really think I could do it?”
“Absolutely.” She nudged his shoulder. “Kids love you and you’re great with people. Start small, maybe get a couple of other circus-y people to help out. But it’d be a way to give back and I think it’d make you happy.”
He grinned. “I’ll talk to Darcy.”
No one had ever been as happy to return to New York as they were. After apologizing to the cats and eating their first decent pizza in over a month, they went back their routine. MJ went to the studio to do her songs. They did Thanksgiving with her dad and his aunt. Her agent called a few times and they discussed her return to the stage. Dipping her toe in Hollywood had been fun, but it wasn’t her cup of tea and had only made her miss acting live.
Darcy thought Peter’s classes were a great idea—and great PR, too. Unsurprisingly, there were no end of little kids who wanted tumbling lessons from Spiderman. They were utterly adorable.
And he came home at night and pronounced. “Yeah, really, I don’t want kids.”
She laughed and handed him a bowl of soup she was very proud to have made. “It can’t be that bad.”
“They’re awesome kids. But this is seriously plenty. Plus the ones in the Tower—I mean, you know Eli and Tess will have more, too, at the least. A little teaching and some Uncle Pete and I am good”
“Well, good. We are in agreement, then.”
He took a sip of his soup. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thank you, I got fresh herbs at the farmers market. Tess insisted they help.”
“They do.” He grinned at her. “Do we have any plans this weekend?”
She tilted her head back, going over her mental schedule. “Dad wanted me to come over and help pick out a Christmas tree, but that was flexible. Why?”
He shook his head. “Just have some errands to run.”
“Do you need help with your errands? A woman’s opinion and all that?”
“No, they are manly errands I must do alone.”
“Then I will bid you farewell and pray for your safe return.”
“And then we’ll go get Christmas trees. One for your Dad, and one for us.”
He got up bright and early Saturday to go run his “manly errands,” leaving MJ lazing in bed with coffee and her cats. She thoroughly enjoyed her lazy morning, puttering about online for Christmas gifts and watching Netflix documentaries.
Peter came back with bagels and in a good mood. She suspected he’d gone Christmas shopping of some sort, but if he’d bought anything, he’d hidden it. “Ready to go kill some trees?”
“I am. Just let me text dad to let me know we’re heading out.”
Their Christmas plans were complicated. The team liked having dinner together and exchanging presents. There was a big party up at the complex in Ithaca everyone was expected at. Plus his aunt and her father, and her annual obligatory visit/phone call (depending on circumstances) with her mother.
Peter made it extra complicated by insisting they be home in their apartment for Christmas morning.
Since they had so much going on - and no kids to wake them up at dawn - MJ set an alarm and the coffee maker to go off at eight. When it started to beep she hit the snooze and rolled over to cuddle Peter. “How long do you think the parents in the building have been up?”
“When I was little I’d be up at 6. At least.” Dawn was like 7:15. He put his arm around her. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Peter Parker.”
He yawned. “But we should get up. I have something to show you.”
Finally, maybe the mystery of why they had to be in the apartment would be solved. She kissed him swiftly and rolled to the edge of the bed, swinging her feet off the edge. “Yes. And there is coffee.”
She expected there would be something among the presents under the tree, but once she had her coffee, he instead pulled her toward the door. Baffled, she followed him to the common room.
“Did you get me an arcade game or something?” She asked, hustling to keep up with him. When he was excited the superhero came out and she forgot she had normal legs.
“Patience,” he called. He went over to the balcony door and opened it, letting in a blast of cold air.
“You could have warned me there would be outside time, I would’ve put on-“ She stopped short, mouth open. Stretched between two of the building across the street was a bunch of his webbing. Which spelled out the words. “Will you marry me?”
“I figured you’d forgive me,” he said quietly.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. Her heart felt like it had stopped and was trying to beat its way out of her chest at the same time. She couldn’t breathe and her ears were ringing. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
Just as Peter started to look panicked, her body started working again and she shrieked and flung herself at him. “Peter!”
He caught her, wrapping his arms around her. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes! Of course it’s a yes.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I have a ring.”
“Is it made of webbing? Because I might not forgive you that.”
He pulled her back inside, since she was starting to shiver with the cold. “It’s made of platinum, thank you very much.” He produced a small box, and very adorably got down on one knee.
It was a very pretty ring, with a gorgeous diamond, surrounded by filagree that did, in fact, look like a spider’s web. She said yes again and he put it on her, standing so she could kiss him. “I love you.”
“I love you. I wanted to add that to the web, but it’s fifteen degrees outside.”
She laughed. “When did you do that? Did you get up in the middle of the night?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“That is love.” She cupped his face and kissed him again. “Thank you.”
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she swiped at them. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” She kissed him again. “And I can’t wait to tell everyone.”