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Phantom Limbs

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‘Doc Ock Getting Married?’

The headline blazed from the trashy Daily Bugle page with a picture of you and Otto standing outside the building and you holding the ring. It actually wasn't a bad picture. You stared at the paper as the man in question had his head in his hands and you tried to triangulate in your head where the hell the photographer had to have been standing and how you didn't see them.

Otto motioned towards you, not raising his head. “Say it.”

You blinked and fiddled with the necklace, playing dumb. “What?”

“I know you want to say something, so say it.” Anyone else would have thought you were about to say something about how you were rethinking this relationship, but he knew you better than that.

You threw the paper down on the table. “Why didn't you tell me we were getting married?” You shrieked sarcastically.

“What?” Peter stood in the doorway holding a bunch of coffees in a carrier and a bag of muffins.

Otto stood up and glared at the man threateningly over his glasses. “Parker.” He bit out before a tentacle grabbed the paper and shoved it into Peter's face. He didn't flinch, somehow. “Explain.”

The man's eyes crossed as he read the headline and his eyebrows rose. He moved his head around to look at the irritated doctor. “Well, when two people love each other very much-“

“Parker.” He crumpled up the paper in his claw.

“It might surprise you to know I don't actually run the paper.” He said emphatically. “Now, do you want to throttle me or do you want your coffee?”

Octavius pretended to think it over for a moment before grabbing his coffee and sulking. “You still have connections. All I'm asking for is some forewarning.” He mumbled into his cup.

“Aw, come on.” You grabbed the paper and smoothed it out. “It might be a weird invasion of privacy, but because it's coming from a tabloid no ones gonna believe it. No one believes all the shit it says about Spiderman.”

Peter sat on a desk and started eating his own muffin. “Those photos though. True artful photojournalism.” He waxed dramatically.

“Oh, completely, whoever took them needs at least five Pulitzer awards.” You said sarcastically as you chugged half of your coffee in one go.

Otto smiled with an evil glint in his eye. “Peter, how did you manage to take such good pictures of Spiderman?”

The man choked on the coffee he was drinking. He cleared his throat. “Oh I never- I never told you? I thought I said something uh- mostly motion activated cameras hung off high buildings you know? I can give you a full run down later, but I have some dangerous liquids I have to heat up so I’ll catch you both later, bye.” He quickly made his way out the door before suddenly popping back in. “So, should I RSVP for the wedding or-“

You didn't think paper could be thrown that hard.

Peter took the hint and scampered off laughing and holding his nose.

You pat the metal arm tensed near you. “Does he really think he's fooling anyone?”

The doctor stood up straight and smiled as he shook his head. “Can you believe he used to be worse?”

You cackled and leaned against the man. “Somehow I can. How much longer do you think I should play dumb?”

He leaned back with an arm around your waist, enjoying the casual closeness. “In my professional opinion, I would advise as long as it's funny.”

You gave the man a small peck on the cheek. “I will be his most formidable foe yet.”

He squeezed you for a moment. “Undoubtable.”

This wasn't how either of you had imagined this project leading, but you were pleased with the results anyway. You thought the AI was too. And it was lovely.

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