#s&ts

Later in the afternoon once he was finished with his morning errands was when he typically showed up, that way he could go straight into patrolling for the night after finishing a warm coffee or two. But since the night before was much more taxing compared to the others, he found himself sleeping past his multiple alarms.

It only became a domino effect after that.

He showed up late at his morning job, which caused him to clock out later than usual to appease his manager. As a result of that, rush hour caught him so getting to the train station took far longer than usual.

Peter knew of MJ's schedule at the café, so he knew he could still catch her on time, even if it would only result in seeing her for only a few minutes. What he didn't take into account was her getting off early and missing her entirely.

He only found out the second he got inside the café. Because instead of the familiar girl with a certain head of curls standing behind the counter, it was a big, bald, burly man who he knew was the owner of the place. Peter was so used to MJ taking his order that he ended up just staring at the man for a few seconds or more.

"Are you going to order or what?" the man gruffly said.

Just as Peter was about to speak, he was interrupted by the chime of the front door's bell followed by heavy and rushed footsteps.

During the months he'd been keeping tabs on MJ and Ned under the guise of being a regular customer, he had never seen her before.

Beautiful brown eyes with dark brown hair framing her pretty face even though her features sported an annoyed look more than anything else. The red dress she wore complemented her skin tone prettily. She also wore some black tights, knee-high boots and a long black coat—to keep her warm, most likely. Apart from finding her cute, her silver necklace with a cross also had him intrigued.

At first, Peter thought she was just a customer rushing in to seek warmth and to hide away from the coldness of the outside. Yet aside from the sharp glare the man was sending her way, she walked directly past Peter and straight into the back room.

The man turned to Peter and said, "We will be with you in a moment."

The moment the man disappeared into the back, an argument ensued. 

It wasn't a screaming match per se—the voices were muffled more than anything else—but it was loud enough for some words to echo into the front counter. Either way, Peter was only able to discern their exact conversation due to his enhanced hearing.

"You're supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!"

"The traffic was shit, Larry, what'd you want me to do? Fly?"

"This isn't the first time you've been late, young lady!'

"I'm earlier than my usual shift!"

"If this happens, again—"

"What? You're firing me?"

Peter heard a beat of silence followed by some grumbling.

"That's what I thought. You're already short-staffed as is," the girl scoffed. "Now can I go and do my job?"

There was a few more grumbling before she finally came back out to the front.

Peter caught her heavy eye roll before she locked gazes with him.

As if knowing that he overheard everything, her whole demeanor suddenly turned shy. Or perhaps Peter simply didn't master his poker face yet. He probably looked too concerned for someone who wasn't supposed to hear anything.

"Sorry about that," she said with a timid smile.

"You don't need to apologize," Peter responded, trying to reassure her as much as he could.

She nodded, her smile turning a little more relaxed. "Same as usual?"

Peter looked at her confused.

Sure, he frequented here often but he didn't think anyone else would be aware of his order considering it was always MJ who took it.

Noticing his confusion, the girl in front of him let out a soft yet awkward laugh.

"I usually work at the back but I do notice how you come here often," she explained, looking away immediately after as she waved her hand. "Not in a weird way or anything! I-I mean like, I'm not a stalker or uh, a creep or something—"

"Don't worry," Peter reassured her, chuckling. "I mean, I come here often and I barely know who else works here? It's kinda my fault for noticing you."

The girl became even more flustered than before, so Peter decided to divert the subject and asked for her name.

"Isabella," she said, smiling with her hand out. "But you can call me Elle."

"Parker. Peter," he fumbled, cheeks turning hot as he shook her hand with a chuckle. "Peter Parker."

"Nice to meet you, Peter," she giggled in return. "Now, what can I get for you?"

•••

It was only a week later that Peter found out that MJ had already resigned from the café. He shouldn't have been surprised considering school was starting back up again. Sure, August was still a few weeks out but he figured she decided to go there early to be able to familiarize with the city. He assumed Ned did the same thing too, since he also hadn't seen him around the café since then.

A part of him wished he could've seen them one last time before they got to Boston. But the other part of him was saying this was for the best. Besides, what was he even going to say? It would've made things weird if he said goodbye because at the end of the day, to them, he was just a random customer that frequented the café.

Yet despite the fact that the two main people he always checked up on—the main reason he visited the café in the first place—were no longer in New York, he couldn't stop going.

He told himself it was simply out of habit. After all, he had been going to the café every single day for the past couple of months. It had been ingrained in his routine that not stopping by at least once simply felt wrong in some way.

Yet deep down he knew it was probably something else or rather, someone.

In only a short amount of time, Elle had intrigued him more than he'd like to admit.

Peter wasn't sure yet as to what exactly it was.

He'd like to think that he was simply making a new friend. But would a simple and innocent friendship—if the mentioned friendship didn't have any underlying feelings—make you feel conflicted? 

Even though he was very well aware he was doing absolutely nothing wrong, Peter somewhat felt a sense of guilt hanging out with Elle.

He kept going back to the promise he made to MJ, about finding her and making her remember. But then again, he'd been visiting the café for months yet there was never any progress. And every time Peter thought they were getting somewhere, that hope would immediately be snuffed out once he realized that she only recognized him as a regular customer and nothing more.

Now, she was hundreds of miles away and chasing after her to Boston wouldn't be a good idea. Apart from coming off as a stalker by appearing at every place she was at—New York needed Spider-Man.

Maybe he should've tried harder when she was still here. Maybe he should've just told her the truth right off the bat.

Or maybe it was time to move on.

Not that he would ever acknowledge all of these feelings any time soon, obviously.

For the past few weeks, he'd been justifying his urge to spend time with Elle as a mere curiosity. Because there was just something about her that he couldn't quite put a finger on. And the only way to find out was to be in her company.

Peter only wanted answers to the questions floating in his head.

That was what he kept telling himself, at least.

•••

It sort of worked.

And by that, Peter meant he learned much more about Elle the more they spent time together.

She was the same age as him and an only child of divorced parents. She was originally from a town just outside of Los Angeles and had only recently moved to New York once she was legal to do so. Now, she found herself working full-time at the café to make ends meet.

They weren't at a stage of knowing each other's numbers yet and they mostly hung around the café—as if it was their own little bubble, almost. But the hours Peter spent in his usual nook in the corner had definitely increased.

If she noticed, she never said a word about it.

Better yet, whenever he would study there for an upcoming GED test, she would sometimes sit with him and help him out whenever her boss wasn't looking. She also was generous enough to give him free refills during moments he would stay later in the night.

Peter would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel some type of way.

His cheeks would heat up whenever their gazes would meet from across the room. A certain warmth would settle in his heart whenever he'd hear her laugh, its pace beating that little bit faster whenever it was him who'd made her laugh. He would find himself grinning unconsciously whenever he would catch a glimpse of her smile, the corner of his lips lifting higher whenever that very smile was directed at him—that type of way.

Something that only seemed to grow on the one-month mark they'd known each other—and hadn't stopped growing since then.

It was easy to say that he was starting to really, really,likeher.

He had also learned to simply let things play out—to go with the flow, if you will. So, he tried not to be too hard on himself and just let himself feel what he feels and see where it goes.

After saving the world countless times and this city even much more, he could at least indulge himself in talking to a pretty girl, right?

Still, there was something else that also piqued his interest. Because the more he got to know her, the more questions seemed to keep popping up.

It made him even more curious.

Other than the fact that she seemed like such a nice sweet and funny girl, quite upbeat when you catch her in a good mood, was able to match his sarcasm very well, funny as well as pretty, he could feel that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Peter was noticing things that simply seemed off.

Aforementioned things weren't necessarily odd in a bad way. They could pass as benign at best. Peter would be able to leave it alone, if she didn't react the way that she did.

But that was the thing, her reaction to being questioned was odd.

Like that one time Peter asked her about a cut on her eyebrow. It wasn't too deep, and he could see that it was on the path of feeling. Still, when he'd seen her the day before and the cut didn't exist then, it was normal for him to ask about how she got it.

Peter expected her to shrug and say something simple like bumping her head against the door or some mishap that was caused by clumsiness more than anything else. But then she started to get nervous. She was stammering an explanation he didn't get to catch because she was already rushing away, throwing in an excuse about some delivery she needed to prepare before disappearing into the back room.

He tried to ignore it but then things just kept getting weirder.

•••

"As if New York hadn't been through enough," said an older, scruffy man as he took a sip of his black coffee.

"Yeah, I don't get why we're always the center of shit," a lanky guy with glasses responded. "Why can't it be Indiana's turn or something?"

"Well, heard there's some shit going on in that town, too."

"Huh, you're right."

The two men chatted as they sat at a booth just beside Peter's. They were two construction workers from across the street, taking a break from their night shift.

It wasn't that Peter was nosey—okay, fine maybe he was, I mean, who isn't'?—but he was unable to tune them out as he waited for Elle to come back with a refill of his coffee.

Besides, their conversation was starting to get interesting.

"You'd think the Avengers would've handled it by now," lanky-boy added. "The number of victims is coming up to double digits."

"Do you really think the Avengers would waste their time on animal attacks?" the old man scoffed. "That's way below their pay grade."

Peter found himself agreeing.

Besides, Spider-Man was there. It's not like he couldn't handle whatever these mysterious attacks were—definitely not tooting his own horn.

Either way, Peter was already aware of the situation. He had been keeping up with the reports on the radio and each one has left him confused more than ever.

He'd tried to catch whatever it was that was behind these attacks but he never seemed to get to the scene of the crime on time. It was always already taken care of. The police would already be swarming the place, so it was safe to assume that they'd been called. Journalists would then follow suit, trying to cover the story as best they could.

Peter would watch from the rooftops as they interviewed the very few witnesses. But what truly raised some questions was that they always describe a woman that stopped these creatures, there for one second and then gone the next.

Was there another new vigilante in New York?

"Sorry that took so long, the machine was acting up again."

Peter turned to Elle with a bright smile, "Why are you apologizing? Are you trying to get me to leave quicker or something?"

"Yes, your ass is about to burn an imprint on that seat," she retorted sarcastically.

Raising a brow, Peter leaned closer to her, smirking. "Why are you thinking about my ass?"

Her eyes widened in shock, pretty lips opening and closing with no words escaping them.

Peter couldn't stop his laugh from bursting out.

"Shut up, Parker," she scoffed, kicking his foot under the table. Though she couldn't stop her giggles as she poured him more coffee.

"There's not even an explanation as to where these animals are coming from," old man grumbled, continuing their conversation.

"But what if there is?" glasses said. Lowering his voice, added, "What if they're not exactly…animals."

"Not that rumor again, Bob—"

"Come on, Luke, it makes sense!"

Peter's heard about that rumor, too.

The people who were attacked by these 'animals' were found to have two punctures on the neck. There was also the case of severe blood loss which didn't make sense from a scientific standpoint because it's impossible for such tiny holes to cause that amount of bleeding in little time. So, theories started going around as people drew their own conclusions. It was probably a way for them to soothe their own fears because knowing what it was would enable them to prepare. That was much easier than trying to fight the unknown.

"Really?" Luke scoffed. "Vampires?"

"I mean, what else could it be?" Bob pushed. "Do you really think a wild animal will survive New York city? It would've been hit by a car by now!"

"Vampires are just a fairytale," Luke brushed off, tone turning teasing as he said, "Or that one shitty movie you love."

"Twilight is not shitty," Bob grumbled before sighing, "Look, Thor was a fairytale once! The Hulk is real but you draw the line on vampires?"

"Whatever floats your boat, Bob."

"Okay, then what about the woman?" lanky Bob continued. "Why would people on the street call her The Vampire Slayer if there aren't any vampires?"

Peter was snapped out of his eavesdropping when Ella let out a panicked yelp. It was only then he realized that coffee had spilled over his mug and splattered all over the table. His concern only grew when he saw the way she was clutching her hand.

"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed.

Peter immediately got out of his seat to stand in front of her. He took her hand in his as he grabbed some tissue from his table. He gently wiped her hand clean and started checking how badly she burned herself. A sigh of relief escaped him once he saw it wasn't severe. Peter didn't know that it was but he couldn't help but pull her hand up to his lip and started blowing cool air on it.

The second he looked up, their gazes met.

Peter didn't know how long they were staring at each other, but he found himself not minding it. But the emotions that flickered in her eyes, from shock to embarrassment had her looking away.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a tad bit disappointed. He would've stayed looking into her eyes for much longer if he could.

"You okay?" he asked, softly caressing her tender skin with his thumb.

"I—" She blinked. "Y-Yeah! Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean your hand—"

"Is completely fine!" she squeaked, pulling her hand away and hiding it behind her. "Don't worry about it."

"Everything okay?" Peter frowned, confused. "You seem spooked."

"Why would I be spooked?" she let out an awkward laugh. 

She never had a mishap before. If there was one thing about her, she was quick on her feet. Peter has seen it countless times from catching a plate before it hits the floor without even looking, or dodging a cupcake with her back turned when a baby had decided to toss it across the room. So, her spilling coffee, on her hand at that, seemed uncharacteristic.

Maybe she was distracted?

Judging from the proximity of those men, she probably heard about what they were talking about or, more or less, was reminded of it since it was the only thing the news had been covering lately. 

"Are you scared about those animal attacks?" he asked in genuine concern. "I could always walk you—"

"Me? Pfft, no. I'm not scared," she quickly brushed it off, waving her hand around. "It's all rumors anyway."

"What, you don't believe in vampires? I mean, punctures in the neck, the evidence is already there," Peter attempted to joke to alleviate the tension but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

The way her eyes widened before rushing to the back and stammering about cleaning up told him as much.

Again.

Weird.

•••

Peter wished he could say it stopped there but what he found tonight brought him some sort of an epiphany almost, a thing that made him slowly connect the dots.

It was the same as any other night of closing the shop, yet as they started to bid their goodbyes, her phone started to beep, loud and fast.

She hurriedly pulled it out of her jacket, took one look at it, and started sputtering her a reason he didn't catch and rushed off, gone before he could even do as much as a wave goodbye.

It was then that he realized that she had dropped something.

At first, he thought it was one of those defense weapons women usually bring with them when they walk at night—a long cylinder-shaped stick with a sharp end. But the more he examined it, the more questions he seemed to gather.

Why is it made of wood?

Is this a wooden stake?

Now, Peter had his moments but he wasn't completely clueless. The animal attacks, the rumors, her sudden nervousness about it, the silver cross necklace, the wooden stake, some woman saving people in the night—could it be?

Surely not…

Right?

•••

It's not creepy if I'm only making sure she's safe.

That was what Peter kept telling himself as he once again followed Elle as she made her way home. He'd been doing it for a couple of nights now, especially since the attacks had only increased. Right after helping her in closing the cafe, they would go their separate ways. Peter would bid his goodbyes as he returned her sentiment about getting home safe.

Yet he was not on his way home.

It might have been wrong to lie, but it was to keep her safe.

But more often than not, Peter somehow would always lose sight of her. Whenever he would look away for a split second, she would be gone. It was either she was quite fast on her feet or she knew how to vanish from thin air.

It only added to the list of odd things he had discovered about her.

Fine, he was making sure that she got home safe, and maybe he was trying to get answers, too.

Both things can be true at the same time, right?

There were simply too many coincidences for him to ignore.

Even more so when he caught her suddenly turning towards an empty alley.

But not for long.

Peter felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat when he saw four men follow in right behind her.

He swung as quickly as he could, heart beating faster and louder at the thought of her being hurt…or worse.

But whatever scenario he was conjuring in his head, from good to bad to worse outcomes—he never expected this.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement.

It's not every day you see the girl you'd been crushing on take down one guy at a time, flawlessly and effortlessly, as if she could do this in her sleep.

She was mesmerizing.

Her strength was unmistakable as Peter watched her send a guy flying across the alley with a simple kick, swiftly swerving the other perpetrator behind her in one move before hitting them square on the nose and knocking them out.

Peter was awestruck.

Does she have powers?

The fight was already over when he got to her, landing just beside the building that covered any source of light.

Yet Peter's questions only seemed to grow as he watched her pull out a wooden stake from her coat—similar to the one she dropped—and started stabbing each unconscious man. He would've been shocked and scared by the brutality of her actions, that until these…men started turning into dust.

So the rumors were true, then?

"Who's there!"

Peter slowly came out of the shadows with his hands up in surrender, showing her that he wasn't a threat. Yet the second she saw him under the light she lowered her weapon.

"Spider-Man."

Peter tilted his head. "You know who I am?"

"Well, duh? New York's greatest defender? You've made quite a name for yourself," Ella said, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised a brow. "Should've just introduced yourself, you know, instead of following me every night."

"I—uh," he chuckled shyly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that—"

"What? You think I wouldn't notice?" she snorted, amusement painting her features. "I'd like to believe I'm not that oblivious, given my line of work."

"Of course not I—" Peter didn't know what it was, but he decided right then and there that he might as well just go for it. "Elle, right?"

He expected her to be surprised. But instead, she merely narrowed her eyes at him as if to examine him.

"How'd you know?"

"Well…" he trailed off, grabbing the top of his mask and then pulling it off.

He flashed her a shy smile. "Hey.'

"Peter…" she breathed out, blinking for a few times before her grin widened. "I fucking knew it!"

Peter blinked.

"What?"

"That makes so much sense!" she added gleefully.

"Okay, wait no," Peter shook his head, glaring at her playfully as he crossed his arms. "Don't you dare say you had your suspicions."

"Oh I absolutely had my suspicions," she giggled, all adorable and proud. "Besides, Spider-Man following me home immediately after I say goodbye to you after closing the café?"

Peter let out a defeated sigh.

"Yeah, you aren't as slick as you think you are, Parker."

"You're not as careful as you think you are either," he retorted, tossing her the wooden stake she dropped a couple nights ago.

She caught it effortlessly.

"Huh, so that's where it went," she mused, laughing shyly. "I guess we both have our moments."

"So you're the slayer person?" Peter asked, walking closer to her.

"Vampire Slayer," she corrected.

Once he was close enough, he swiftly yet discreetly scanned her form to check if she was hurt, grateful that he didn't seem to see any visible injuries.

Still, ever the observant person—or maybe it was one of her powers, who knows—she still caught him. "Are you checking me out, Parker?"

"I'm making sure you're not hurt."

She blinked at him, surprised. She probably didn't expect him to be so blatantly honest.

"I'm not hurt," she reassured with a soft smile.

Peter mirrored her grin with a nod before narrowing his eyes. "What does 'Vampire Slayer' mean, exactly?"

She raised her brow at him. "It's literally on the name."

Peter deadpanned.

"What?" she giggled, reaching a hand up to settle his hair, made unruly by his mask.

He couldn't stop his heart from doing a silly little dance inside his chest, its warmth slowly seeping onto his cheeks.

"You know," he hummed, daring to place a hand on her waist. He couldn't stop his smile when she leaned a little closer. "You had me worried there for a second, thought you were in danger when I saw those men follow you in. Turns out, you didn't really need any help."

"Well, I'll have you know I'm not some damsel in distress," she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes.

"Never thought you were," he chuckled. 

"Besides, you're not the only one who has powers in this neighborhood," she said, grinning.

Peter didn't exactly know where the sudden burst of confidence was coming from. Maybe it was from the fact that his feelings for her were definitely confirmed by the fear he felt at the thought of her being in danger or hurt. Maybe he was just feeding off of her high energy and adrenaline. Either way, he didn't hesitate to shoot his shot.

"How about you tell me all about it over dinner? My treat."

"Is this your way of bribing me to spill my secrets?" she said with narrowed eyes. "Or are you so enthralled by my skills that you're asking me out on a date?"

"Why not both?"

"Shut up," she giggled. "About time you asked though. You can be kinda slow with hints sometimes."

Peter looked at her genuinely confused, "What hints?"

"Seriously?" she snorted. "I don't just give free coffee refills to anyone, mind you. It's technically not even allowed."

He grinned, placing his other hand on her waist and giving it a gentle squeeze. "What are you trying to say here exactly?"

"Uh…" She turned shy, then, eyes casted down. Peter could see she was trying to gain the courage to just say it out loud.

"That you like me, too?" he supplied instead, her eyes snapping back up to meet his.

"Too?"

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's slow when it comes to hints."

Peter felt his heart stutter at the way her smile brightened.

"So, pizza at my place?" she hummed, giggling. But then realization dawned on her face. "Oh wait. I still need to patrol."

"Same here. How about I come with," Peter offered. "Then we get pizza after."

"The Spider-Man needing my help?" she teased. "I thought I'd never see the day."

"Shut up" Peter rolled his eyes. "Now, hold tight."

"Why?" she asked confused, yet did so, anyway, wrapping her arms around his neck.

It made Peter feel warm, simply from the fact that she trusted him and his word enough.

Once he put on his mask and made sure she was secured, Peter didn't say another word as he hoisted them up and started swinging, her shrieks and expletives marrying with his boisterous laugh.

After roaming the city of New York and stopping any petty crime they came across—and killing two more vampires, a sight Peter still needed to get used to—they stopped at his apartment to get some stuff before crashing at her place for the night solely because it was bigger than his.

They might have skipped a few steps compared to any normal relationships—they were barely even there, frankly—but then again, nothing about them was normal to begin with, anyway.

For the rest of the evening, as they sat on her living room floor with two boxes of warm pizza sitting on the coffee table, Elle told Peter her story, and in return, he also shared pieces of his.

She got chosen—ironic since there wasn't even much of a choice—as a slayer when she was fifteen, and Peter shared that he got bitten by a radioactive spider at that age, too. She shared how she was given these powers that basically made her an enhanced individual which led to a playful arm wrestling match to see who was stronger. Peter ended up losing solely because he was too scared to hurt her, especially when he himself wasn't fully aware at what level his strength truly was.

She got all pouty about it but it was immediately pushed aside when Peter said she looked so cute when she was pouting.

He got a pepperoni in the face when he wouldn't stop teasing her about it.

But aside from the witches, vampires and demons alike—which was how Peter learned Wanda was actually a witch instead of a mutant—the two of them are surprisingly so similar in some ways. They already clicked before, and now, they seemed to have a lot in common when it came to their second life as well.

They also shared sentiments as to how lonely this life could be sometimes and it was like a breath of fresh air for Peter to have someone understand him. Maybe not to the fullest of extents since whatever this was between them was new, but understand him, nonetheless.

It was safe to say Peter was glad he came into the café later than when he usually did that day.

Fascinating how changing one small thing in a routine could have a profound impact on a person's life, huh?

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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