Variant Strain

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Peter was getting tired of embarrassed silences.

He'd been going into them a lot since he'd met MJ, which admittedly was not quiet eleven hours ago. If he really set his mind to it, he realized he'd only actually spent an accumulated total of five hours in her presence thus far, but even so there had already been a lifetime of embarrassed silences around her.

After his demonstration for her and the declaration that he was trying very hard not to eat her and her little oral sex quip which still made his face burn and other parts of him tingle, she had declared that he needed to expand his wardrobe.

So they'd gone shopping.

Or at least hitting what local thrift stores and Walmarts as they could reach by walking. Which weren't that many. The long walks didn't tire him like they should have, or rather like they would have just a few days ago.

Peter didn't have any money. His wallet was in his backpack which was still in Anna Watson's house. He wasn't sure how he would carry one around since it was plastic and so were most of it's contents, among the items that weren't paper. He was worried about possibly eating it as well as his identification.

In the interests of pure scientific curiosity, MJ had fed him a dollar bill. When he'd tried to extrude it back out, the resulting 'bill' stayed firmly stuck to his fingers by tendrils and the print looked very off. Smeared. If one didn't look too closely, it might have passed muster... well, if he could get it away from his hands in the first place, but the smaller print was barely readable.

MJ had declared that the material felt right, like he'd managed to get the right kind of paper for making a forgery, but that actual printer used hadn't been up to snuff. And there was no security stripe. The colors looked a little off as well, Peter decided that was probably because of the metallic dyes in the ink. His body really couldn't do metals that way. He reabsorbed it hurriedly.

None of which had caused the latest embarrassed silence. Not even when she'd offered to pay for their small lunch at the small burger joint inside the Walmart.

They'd chosen an out of the way corner of the restaurant, not immediately visible from the entrance or the counter which afforded them a small modicum of privacy. Peter had eaten his meal of many, many cheap burgers with a sort of necessary daintiness that MJ seemed to be fascinated by.

That wasn't the cause of the embarrassed silence either.

It was when she'd asked, "What do you plan to do now?" that he'd drawn another complete mental blank.

He covered up for it by taking another tiny bite of his tiny burger, but his nervousness betrayed itself and the rest of it vanished from his hands before he or MJ even noticed his hand blurring.

Finally he replied, "Try and figure out what happened to me, I guess. And find the guys who were really responsible for what happened to uncle Ben."

"But how?" She pressed. "I mean, yes, you are smart, but not all the CSI or Discovery channel in the world is going to make you a trained investigator." Her mouth twisted in a morbid parody of a grin, "Eating someone who was though--"

"Well, what would you do?" He asked, slightly defensive now.

"Get someone who actually is an investigator to do it for you," She replied with a small, smug smile. Like she'd figured something out before he did.

He picked up and unwrapped another burger as he mulled that over. "I can't exactly afford a PI." He replied with a wince. He looked down at his burger and his expression fell, "I can't even afford my own lunch."

She gave him a pat on the back of the hand, which he'd flinched away from just a tiny bit, sending both their hands scooting back hurriedly. MJ said with exaggerated patience, "Then don't pay for one. That cop guy who visited you and your aunt the other day."

"George Stacy." Peter replied. "He was a friend of my dad's."

"He pretty much told your Aunt May that he wasn't buying the story they told him. Give him the info. He's already planning on looking into things, right?" MJ explained. "Just give him a nudge in the right direction."

"You think that would work?" Peter frowned slightly, "I mean what if he blows me off? I mean it's not like I can just tell him everything like I did with you. Do I just tell him, 'Oh, by the way, I have the memories of oneof the guys who killed my uncle. I've got some info for you!'"

She shook her head, "No, of course not. You shouldn't tell him. He's a cop. He'd be worried about other stuff." Her tone went dark, "You can't trust the cops."

"Then why--?" Peter began to ask, but she cut him off.

"But you don't have to trust the cops to use them." She continued. "If you can't do it yourself, you find someone who can. In this case, that cop already wants to do what you need him to do. We pass him a few necessary hints and he can use his cop-resources to find out what you need."

Peter still looked reluctant. "Fine. Sure, we could do that... but if I'm not going to tell him everything, if the info isn't going to come from Peter Parker, allegedly the only witness to the whole thing, why would he listen?"

MJ smiled and made an expansive gesture. "Easy. You tell him all the info you've found out as Ed Whelan."

He stared at her. "Wait, what?"

She nodded, "Tell him you're the one the two men, Smith and Jones were chasing after. You can give him the same story you did as Peter, especially the bit about the third man, which sounds like an unreleased detail that they already noticed. You bring up to him where you work and that you think it ties in to what happened at the deli. I mean you said he looked peeved about that. That should give him something else to look into."

He frowned and thought. That did sound like it might work. It would also put the investigation in the hands of someone who knew what he was doing, instead of leaving it to Peter, who'd been quite frankly, flailing around blindly.

"Isn't he going to want to take 'Ed Whelan' into custody then?" Peter asked.

She nodded and popped a fry into her mouth, "Yes, but you'll be doing all of this over the phone," She continued, "Tell Detective Stacy you're in hiding because they're still after you. It sounds like he's already got a beef with Gentek to begin with anyway. You're giving him all the excuses he needs to do exactly what he wants to do anyway." She took another fry, "It's the best way to get people to do what you need them to."

Peter stared at her. She'd had her hood back up and her hair was swept down to cover the side of her face. All he could really see of her was her chin and the line of one smooth cheek. "That's awfully cynical."

She grinned cheekily at him, "It's basic psychology. You're not the only one who learns things from TV."

"This isn't going to devolve into wacky hijinks, right?" Peter asked. "Cause that last thing we need is for you to show me what you learned from 'I love Lucy'."

She gave a playfully offended huff of indignation, "I am trying to help, you know."

"Yes, I get that." Peter looked thoughtful, "I have Detective Stacy's number, I guess I can give him a call..."

"Well, don't fall all over your own feet in your enthusiasm." She said dryly, but the smile took the sting out of it.

He smiled back. "Payphone, you think? Last thing I want is him figuring out the call was coming from my cell. That's just going to open up a whole bunch of new questions I don't want him asking."

She shook her head and fished her phone out of her pocket. "Use mine. It's a prepaid. Untraceable."

He blinked, "Are you sure? Wouldn't--"

She held out another cell phone with pink trim. "I've got a spare."

Peter found himself unable to stop speculating on why she would have an untraceable pre-paid cellphone, but he wasn't about to turn down her offer to help. He put the phone in his pocket and then realized something.

"What?" She asked, seeing the change in his expression.

"I'm an idiot." Peter sighed. "His home address was on his Facebook page."

She blinked in surprise, "Seriously?"

"Well, the neighborhood. And he's got pictures of it up and down the street. I know he's on an apartment on a higher floor. One that makes him complain when the elevator's out in the building. It's something... familiar enough... I might be able to get his address if I go there. I might be able to get into his place and... I don't know. Maybe there's some more clues there."

"Wouldn't Gentek security or these T-Bolt guys be watching his place?"

Peter grinned, "Well, that just makes it easier to spot then, doesn't it?"

She sighed and covered her eyes for a moment. "You're really determined to do this yourself aren't you?"

"I'll take a quick poke around Whelan's place," Peter said hurriedly, not giving her a chance to talk him out of it. "Then if I do find something, that's just more stuff I can take to Detective Stacy, right?"

She shook her head, "Okay, I guess you have a point. We'll go." She began to get up when Peter put a hand on hers.

"Wait, what do you mean 'we'?" Peter said a bit more sharply than he intended.

She glowered at him from the shadows in her hoodie. She sat down and glared at him, "Do you know how to pick a lock?"

"Uh... no?"

"I do." She said with a small trace of pride. "Do you know how to get past a couple of guys keeping surveilance on a place by yourself?"

He frowned slightly, "Don't tell me you know how to do that too."

She flushed a bit, then chewed her lower lip for a second. "Okay, technically I don't either, but you need someone to watch your back. Make sure people don't put any more bullets into it." She said quietly.

He smiled a little at the worry in her tone. The obvious concern. That made him feel warm and his face flushed slightly. "I'll be fine." He gave her a small smile. "I can take a bullet to the head. I can outrun a car in Manhattan. I can change what I look like by just thinking hard." He continued, "They don't expect any of that. They'll never see me coming."

She chewed her lower lip once more as she mulled it over. "Or they're not watching and we can just stroll in there. I mean, assuming you knew where it was."

"I can find it." He said, then with less confidence, "Probably."

She sighed and held her hand out, "Let's make sure. Give me my phone back."

He passed it back to her and she asked him, "Get me the number for Metrocare's corporate office. Their HR department if you can get it."

Peter frowned slightly and pulled his own phone out, checking through his notes, but finally settling on doing a quick search. Their main website had all the necessary info MJ needed. "What are you going to do?"

"It's right around lunch time," MJ said confidently as she began dialing on her pre-paid phone. "If anyone picks up they'll be annoyed or in a rush. Won't be thinking too much. We could get lucky and they might just react on automatic..."

"What are you--?" He began to ask, but she held a hand out and shushed him.

She began talking, her voice now had a thick Jersey accent and sounded older. "Hello," Her voice sweet, but grave, "I know it's almost lunch and I'm sorry about this... My name's Jane Foster. I'm a Nurse with the Bayshore Community Hospital? I'm trying to get hold of an employee of yours, a Mr. Ed Whelan? He's listed as next of kin for Mary Whelan--?"

She paused as someone on the other end replied. MJ continued to speak, her voice soft and grave and serious and extremely convincing. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is there maybe a number or a mailing address we can use to get in touch with him? I'm afraid his mother doesn't have a lot of time and she wanted--" She paused as the voice on the other end spoke some more. "I know. I know it's sad when family doesn't get along. They hadn't seen each other in years and didn't want to go without... She does want to get him to forgive her... oh." She bit her lower lip, her voice growing quieter and somehow contriving to seem even more sad. "I'm... I'm so sorry. I said too much. I really shouldn't--"

She paused and now a small triumphant smirk appeared on her face. She reached out and grabbed Pete's phone from his hand and tapped something on it hurriedly. MJ gushed quietly, "Bless you, Miss. Bless you. Oh, yes. It'll be between us. I wont tell anyone. Thank you."

She hung up and tossed both phones back to a dumbfounded Peter. "What was...?"

His voice drawled in his head, She lies like a pro, doesn't she? Is she doing that for you?

He shook his head to silence that nagging little voice and she gave him a smile. "Confirmed Ed Whelan's home address."

He looked down at his phone where she'd tapped out a mid-town Manhattan address. Same neighborhood he was expecting to look through. He frowned and put the address into the map program on his phone and pulled up a street view.

"Wow." The street level picture matched up with one of Ed Whelan's self-portraits showing the street where he lived. "Wow." Peter looked up at her, "That was amazing."

She preened, just a little, then buffed her fingernails on the front of her hoodie and asked, "You maybe could've found his place, but it would've taken us the rest of the day."

"This is really upscale for a guy who works as a nurse isn't it?" Peter asked thoughtfully. "I mean Manhattan rent alone..."

"You think he has a roommate splitting the rent with him?"

He shook his head, "No roommate. No friends. Not even pets." Peter shrugged, "Maybe it was rent controlled or something."

MJ nodded, "Well, now we can head straight there."

"We?" He asked again, looking up sharply.

She met his gaze, this time he could see both of her green eyes, hard and bright. "Yes, we."

He flinched back and tried to keep his voice level, "Okay. Fine. We'll see what we can find out." His eyes narrowed and he tried his best to sound as serious as he could. Harsh. Hard. It came out with Kassidy's Texas drawl, "But if there's anyone watchin' the place, you stay put, y'hear me? I can probably sneak back out and meet up with you a lot easier than if we gotta make a run for it while carryin' you."

It was her turn to flinch. She looked away at his tone and nodded, not letting him see her eyes that time.

For a moment Peter was worried that he'd scared her. He knew Cletus's voice would scare him, but she looked back again, her eyes cheery once more and a smile on her lips. "Could you carry me and run that fast?"

That stalled his thought processes once more. Her smiles had that effect. He really needed to work on that. "I guess?" He replied uncertainly.

"We should try that sometime. I want to see what it's like to go that fast in someone's arms." There was a little teasing note to her voice.

Peter coughed, then tried to match her tone, but his voice choked a little, not quite as playful as hers. "Didn't you tell me you wanted to take it a little slow?"

She laughed again, patting his hand and said reassuringly. "A lady is allowed to change her mind."

This time neither of them flinched back. He had the hunger under control. He was sure.

"Is Manhattan going to count as a second date?" Peter asked, relaxing into the banter once more. It was just... so easy.

"Straight to the breaking and entering on the second date?" She grinned. "Nope, we're going to count this one as a do-over for the back-alley make-out spot."

He made a disappointed noise that just got her laughing once more.

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