Next Steps
******
“And that is how I got your dad to finally admit that I was a better assistant than DUM-E,” Maisie said, a proud grin on her face as Morgan laughed. “Although, I really shouldn’t have had to fight so hard for that.”
“DUM-E is the best!” Morgan chirped.
Maisie scoffed, “Tony put a dunce cap on him most of the time, but yeah sure, he’s the best.”
“Just what are you telling my daughter?” Pepper entered Morgan’s room with an amused smile.
“Nothing I can’t tell her next time I babysit,” Maisie shot her an innocent look as she stood from her chair next to Morgan’s bed.
“It’s not babysitting!” Morgan argued.
“You’re right, Maguna,” the older girl raised her hands in defense. “I didn’t mean it, we were just ‘hanging out.’”
Pepper laughed and took Maisie’s spot, “Thank you again for coming over on such short notice.”
Maisie shrugged, “I’m the best person to call if you need someone immediately. Especially if it’s you or Morgan.”
Pepper smiled, but her eyes turned wistful. The crinkles around her eyes showed she did smile a lot, but it was showing her age as well. Maisie wished she could see Tony grow older as well, side by side with his wife. Turning to her daughter, Pepper kissed Morgan’s forehead and wished her a good night.
“Goodnight Maisie!” Morgan called. “I love you 2000!”
Maisie pumped her fist, “I’m up to a whole ton!” With that, Pepper closed Morgan’s door behind them, muffling the sound of her daughter’s sleepy giggles.
“She does, you know,” Pepper began, “she loves you so much.”
“And I love her,” Maisie’s smile wavered, not enough for Pepper to notice (or at least to mention it). “She’s an amazing little girl.”
“I’m glad she has such a good role model, too.” Pepper replied. Maisie felt a rush of pride at that, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. “Anyway, here’s what I owe you—I’m sure you’ve earned it and more.” Pepper held out a check, the same move she tried every time Maisie had the privilege of hanging out with Morgan. And every time, Maisie shook her head and refused to take it. “You might as well just take it from me,” Pepper continued. “You know I donate to May’s shelter every time you turn it down.”
Maisie did know this; she could almost feel Tony laughing at her, knowing Maisie couldn’t be mad about Pepper donating to homeless people, especially when it helped May.
“I know that a certain crime-fighting duo have a scheduled appearance at the shelter’s fundraiser tonight.” Pepper raised one eyebrow. “It’d save me some time if you just took it from me now.”
“Fine,” she relented, “but only because it makes your life easier.”
“You superheroes don’t have a habit of making my life easier—at least not until you came along. Feel free to keep that up,” Pepper shook her head while Maisie laughed. “Now, get out of here before Morgan decides she wants a sleepover.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Maisie saluted. “I’ll send May your best.”
Without another word, Pepper’s hallway filled with the familiar lavender sparks, and the teenager was gone.
******
May’s fundraiser for the homeless shelter was already in full swing. Maisie didn’t think she was necessarily late, but Peter and his Iron Spider suit were already on stage looking as uncomfortable as possible. He was lucky the crowd couldn’t see his face, but Maisie had gotten pretty good at reading his body language thus far.
Clad in her purple Metal Mischief suit, she waited for an appropriate time to appear onstage next to the two Parkers. Maisie snorted as May described her experience reappearing after the Blip; the part about the grandma thinking she was a ghost was funny every time May said it.
“Thank you all for coming out to support those who have been displaced by the Blip,” May’s smile never faltered as she paused for applause. “And of course, thanks to our very own Spider-Man!”
Maisie’s gaze shifted to Peter, who raised both hands in a thumbs up for the audience.
“Thank you, Miss Parker, for having me,” he made his voice deeper, Maisie noticed with a wince. Peter cleared his throat as he continued, “And, thank you, you guys, for having me.”
At the first uncertain clap in the crowd, Maisie teleported onstage next to the awkward boy.
“And, of course, let’s give an amazing round of applause for Miss Parker again for her amazing contribution toward such an amazing night!” Peter audibly sighed in relief.
May regained her composure and smiled brightly at the girl’s praise, “Thank you, all!”
“Sorry for the lateness, everyone,” Maisie directed her apology mostly toward the two Parkers. “I was busy collecting this hefty contribution from none other than the CEO of Stark Industries herself, Pepper Potts!” The girl handed the check to May and smiled underneath her mask, “She thanks you for your amazing contributions to the city during this confusing time.”
The crowd cheered in applause, some even getting to their feet in support. Maisie thought she even heard a few whistles. Stepping back, Maisie shot Peter a wink. She hoped he blushed.
“Oh, thank you! And thank you, Spider-Man and Mischief—our local heroes,” May gestured at the teens. “They’ll be right back to take photos and videos.”
May led the two teen heroes backstage, giving them each a high five as they passed her. Peter scanned the back room and allowed his mask to disappear once he saw it was empty. Maisie followed suit, laughing at the beet red face Peter had been hiding underneath.
“That was great, you guys!” May exclaimed. “Thanks for saving us there, Maisie. Peter was a bit stiff.”
“What?” Peter began to protest, “No, I—”
“It’s no problem, May,” Maisie ignored him. “I saw it, too. I’m just sorry I’m late. Morgan wanted another bedtime story, and—”
“It’s no problem,” May reassured her. “That little girl loves you.”
Maisie beamed at May and turned to share the look with Peter. He nodded in agreement, “She never asks me to babysit.”
“Morgan calls it ‘hanging out,’ by the way,” Maisie corrected with a smirk.
Before Peter could retort, May clapped her hands together, “So! Have you two both got your passports?”
Peter’s eyes lit up, “Yes!”
“Mini toothpaste?” May raised an eyebrow.
Maisie frowned, “Wait, mine’s normal sized—”.
A door opened across the room. Peter and Maisie instantly raised their nanoparticle masks.
“Sorry, I’m late!” Happy Hogan entered the room, looking annoyed and a bit… nervous? “Oh, May! You look lovely.”
“Oh, thank you,” May smiled, her cheeks turning the slightest bit pink. Maisie’s gaze locked on Peter’s, watching him with amusement and wide eyes. “So do you.”
“Thank you, er, new dress?” Happy pointed at May’s long black dress.
“Yes, it is,” May pointed at his face, “New beard?”
“Yeah, it’s my ‘Blip Beard.’ Since, I grew it in the Blip,” Happy trailed off. May nodded in understanding, but Maisie and Peter just stared at him, not blinking. “Anyway, I’m late because I misplaced the check that Pepper told me to bring—she’s so sorry she couldn’t make it, by the way—”
“I got it, Haps,” Maisie interrupted.
Happy looked at her, “Babysitting money?”
Maisie scoffed, “‘Hanging out’ money—and no, she knew I wouldn’t take it anywhere except to donate it to the shelter.”
“She knows you very well, and clearly trusts you,” May held up the check in her hand, “This is made out for a half of a million dollars.”
“It’s not as fun as the really big check I was going to bring, but I mean, well, the amount is really big, so that’s nice,” Happy stumbled over his words. Happy and May shared a look that the two teens wished they weren’t in the room for.
“Well, I’m going to go change the Sterno under the vegan lasagna,” May turned to leave back the way they came. “Spider-Man, Mischief—go shake hands.”
May left, leaving Happy staring after her like a love-struck puppy. The two rounded on him immediately.
“What just happened?” Peter asked.
“Heads up,” Happy ignored him, “Nick Fury’s calling you.” Maisie and Peter exchanged a look, matching faces of confusion and hesitation. Happy frowned. “I hate it when you guys do that.”
“Nick Fury’s gonna call us?” Peter’s eyes widened as Happy nodded. “Why?”
Maisie didn’t know what to think about Nick Fury. Tony said he liked the guy, but that he was so full of secrets that he wasn’t sure if he even knew him enough to decide if he liked him. As the head of what used to be SHIELD, he was the reason the Avengers were ever assembled in the first place. And, he knew Tony’s dad, Howard, far better than Tony ever understood. Too many secrets made Maisie uneasy. She was still holding onto too many of her own.
“Because he probably has hero stuff for you to do,” Happy explained, speaking to Peter like he was a second grader. “You’re a superhero, he calls superheroes.”
“If it were that important, don’t you think he’d call somebody else?” Maisie crossed her arms.
“Apparently not,” Happy responded. At that, Peter’s phone lit up with a screen reading “No Caller ID” and he held it up for Maisie to see. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Peter kept his eyes on Maisie, “I don’t really want to talk to Nick Fury.”
“I don’t want to either,” Maisie held her hands up in defense.
“Answer the phone!” Happy ordered.
“Do we have to?” Maisie asked Peter, ignoring Happy’s panicking.
“Yes, because if you don’t talk to him, then I have to talk to him!” Happy replied anyway.
“Well, why don’t you want to talk to him?” Peter shot back.
“Because I’m scared—just answer the phone!” Happy reached for it, but Peter pulled it away. With a single tap, he declined the call. Happy’s jaw dropped, and Maisie snorted at the look on his face. “You sent Nick Fury to voicemail.”
The uptempo AC/DC song blared from Maisie’s phone, showing another “No Caller ID” screen. Without a word, Maisie declined the call and sent Peter a mischievous smile.
Happy gaped at the two of them, “You do not send Nick Fury to voicemail.”
“Oh man, do you hear that?” Peter pointed at the curtain leading to the stage. “They’re calling us, I’m sorry, we gotta go!”
“You gotta talk to him!” Happy said, shaking his head. “You do not ghost Nick Fury!”
“We’ll definitely call him!” Maisie shot him a thumbs-up as she followed Peter to the curtain. “Don’t you even worry!”
The two turned around, and Peter stopped, giving her a pointed look, “After our trip.”
Maisie looked into his eyes. The brown, honest, puppy dog eyes of the boy she loved asked her more than just that single question.
“Of course,” she nodded, giving him a small smile. “After our trip.”
They stepped onstage and took pictures with the locals for approximately ten minutes before the reporters began hounding the two heroes for questions they didn’t know how to answer. Maisie finished signing a book for a little girl, smiling at the title reading Matilda. She looked over her shoulder for a moment to check on Peter, and she found him in the center of all the lights and cameras. With a flash, she was by his side. The group jumped in surprise, but Spider-Man was unfazed.
“Are you the new Head Avenger?” one reporter shoved the microphone into Spider-Man’s face.
“No, no, I’m not,” Peter rushed out.
“Mischief! Is Spider-Man your sidekick?” another reporter almost hit Maisie with their microphone. “Or are you Spider-Man’s sidekick?”
“I like to refer to him more as my side-piece—”
“Neither of us are a sidekick,” Peter interrupted her. “We’re partners.”
“Spider-Man! If aliens come back, what are you going to do?”
“What’s it like to take over for Tony Stark? Those are some big shoes to fill.”
“Mischief! Do you have what it takes to save the Earth if it needs you to?”
“Uh,” Maisie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She had no idea what to say. The questions were coming too fast, and they weighed on her more with each passing second. They all pointed toward an answer that no one wanted: I don’t know.
Spider-Man spoke up, “We’re gonna go, but thank you all so much for coming. And thank you for your questions!” Peter lowered his voice, “Mischief, wanna get us out of here?”
She could only nod and take his hand.
“Thank—” the two vanished before Peter could finish his sentence.
*****
Maisie let her feet dangle on the fire escape outside her bedroom window. Peter was in the next room over, scrambling as he tried to pack the rest of his things for the trip. They left early the next morning, but Maisie had been packed for weeks. She couldn’t remember a single time she went on vacation after her mother died, and she had very few memories before that. The last time she was on a plane was for Leipzig, and that wasn’t exactly a vacation.
“Have you seen my Star Wars—” the door was ajar, so Peter didn’t bother knocking. Maisie hopped back inside the room, and Peter froze. “Oh.”
Maisie glanced down at the shirt she was wearing, “Were you looking for this one?”
“Yeah,” he flushed. “But that’s okay! I can pack another one, I have more shirts, way more shirts…”
“Sorry, it got mixed up in the laundry…” Maisie tugged at the hem of the maroon t-shirt. Against her wishes, her cheeks tinted pink as well. “I didn’t really think—”
“No! No, it’s okay, it’s totally cool,” Peter managed to shake and nod his head at the same time. “You should keep it, if you want. I mean, you don’t have to. It’s my shirt, I’m not saying you should keep my shirt if you don’t want to, but…” the room fell silent as they both struggled to speak. Peter cleared his throat and pointed, “It, um, looks good.”
Now Maisie was really blushing, “Oh. Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Peter stared back. He glanced past her and saw the open window, “You okay?”
Maisie crossed her arms over her chest, “Trying to be.”
He nodded. The two didn’t speak again, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Maybe it had been for a few weeks once she moved in, but now… Maisie couldn’t help but feel at ease whenever Peter was around—even when he was making her blush.
“I should finish packing,” he finally spoke. Maisie only nodded. “Let me know if you need anything?”
She cracked a smile at that, “I always do.”
“Not always,” Peter replied, maybe a bit too quickly.
He was gone before Maisie could think of a response.
******
Maisie lifted her carry-on bag over her head, but before she could move it, the bag was gently taken from her hands and placed in the overhead storage bin. She turned, ready for a retort about being able to handle herself, but the “helper” stood with a bright smile.
“It’s no problem!” Brad Davis chirped.
Maisie nodded with a close-mouthed smile in thanks and turned to follow MJ down the aisle of the plane toward their assigned seats. She didn’t catch the questioning look on Peter’s face as she passed by. He and Ned were already sitting in their seats. Peter got lucky with the window, which he told Maisie with excitement earlier that morning. Ned was his travel buddy, so he was next to him, and Betty Brant sat in the aisle seat, trying her best to get comfortable with a pink, monogrammed neck pillow.
“How much farther are we?” Maisie grumbled. Her travel buddy, MJ, was about to answer with her usual level of sarcasm when Flash called out across the rows of seats from the other side of the plane.
“Yo, Parker!” Flash taunted, waving a flute of champagne. “This is called an ‘airplane.’ It’s like the buses you’re used to, except it flies over the poor neighborhoods instead of driving through them.”
Peter just stared at him, clearly not too bothered, but Maisie bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to control her language.
“Ma’am?” MJ’s voice rang out across the plane. The flight attendant on Flash’s side of the plane looked up. MJ pointed at Flash, “He Blipped, so he’s actually sixteen, not twenty-one.”
The attendant snatched Flash’s drink, “I’ll take that.”
Maisie and MJ laughed, fist-bumping each other in celebration as Flash tried in vain to get his drink back. Looking over her shoulder, Peter was smiling, too. Her smile grew larger as his eyes locked on her.
“Classic MJ, right?” Brad nudged Maisie’s shoulder, the bright smile still on his face.
“Uh, yeah,” she tore her gaze away from Peter. “She’s something.” When she turned back, Peter was already looking away.
“Here,” MJ said, pointing at the nearest row of four seats. Great, they were in the middle section of the plane. “I’m in the aisle, so you go first.” Maisie frowned, but MJ didn’t budge. “Maybe you’ll get luckier on the way home.”
“Not likely,” Maisie sighed and moved to sit in the aisle, but Brad put a hand out to stop her.
“Oh, sorry—I think I’m in the other middle seat,” he pointed at Abe, his travel buddy, who sat on the last aisle seat in their row.
Maisie gestured at the seat, “Be my guest.”
Across the plane, Peter elbowed Ned in the stomach with more force than necessary.
“Ow, Peter?” Ned asked, glaring at his superhuman best friend.
“Sorry, but look!” Peter nodded toward Maisie’s row of seats where she, MJ, and Brad finally sat down and got situated. The sound of Maisie’s sudden laugh rang in his ears—was that Brad making her laugh?
“Look at what?” Ned followed his gaze.
“Did you know that Brad was coming?” Peter asked. Ned shook his head, and Peter sat back in his seat, frowning.
“It’s so weird,” Ned said. “Like, one day, he’s just that kid who cried and got nosebleeds all the time. Suddenly we Blip back, and he’s totally ripped and super nice, and all these girls are after him.”
Peter’s head snapped up, “Not all of the girls are after him.” He looked over at the row and heard Maisie’s laugh again.
“No, man, they’re all after him,” Ned sighed.
Peter tried hard not to think about it.
MJ pulled out her headphones to listen to the newest episode of her favorite social activist’s podcast, and Maisie considered her options on the in-flight entertainment screen. She did like watching the flight tracker, but it was too early in the flight to enjoy the animation of the plane over the ocean.
Scrolling through the newest movies, she ignored the documentaries, refusing to pause and consider the aptly named biography on Tony: “Heart of Iron.” Maisie frowned and went to select a new genre when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Almost jumping out of her seat, she turned to Brad with wide eyes, “What?”
“Oh, sorry,” Brad winced. “I was just wondering if you’d wanna watch a movie. I have a dual headphone adapter, and Abe fell asleep…”
Maisie glanced at MJ, but she was clearly engrossed in the podcast. She wouldn’t be surprised if MJ got up and started a protest halfway through the flight. Maisie couldn’t even fault her for that, in fact, she’d join her.
“Um,” Maisie felt uneasy, but she did need a distraction. “Sure, but pick something funny—I’m in desperate need of a laugh.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Brad looked like he was going to salute, then decided against it. Against her better judgment, Maisie let out a snort. Brad smiled, confidence reinstated, and picked the worst movie Maisie had ever seen. But, it was a good distraction.
And this trip would be, too.
******
The plane finally touched down in Italy, and Maisie felt the excitement bubbling to the surface once they made their way through the airport with all their luggage. She was thankful that she only had a carry-on suitcase and a backpack—she shook her head in amusement at Peter’s handheld suitcase. Obviously, it didn’t bother the boy with super strength, but it was still a silly sight. Maisie jogged up next to him, bumping him with her hip.
“How was your first time flying economy?” Maisie whispered with a smirk.
Peter smiled and shook his head, “I listened to Ned playing Beast Slayers and talking to Betty the whole time. I don’t think he even remembered I was sitting next to him.”
“To Betty?” Maisie raised her eyebrows.
“Babe? Could you hold this for me?” Betty handed her neck pillow to Ned.
Maisie’s jaw dropped, “Wh—”
“Turns out, they have a lot in common,” Peter sighed. “There goes his plan of us being American bachelors in Europe.”
Maisie stopped walking, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she said, “American bachelors?”
“Oh, uh….” Peter’s face reddened. “He was just coming up with a plan to convince me not to do my plan which was the opposite of his plan to be an American bachelor in Europe.”
“You had a plan?” Maisie tilted her head. “That is the opposite of Ned’s plan?”
Peter cursed her detail-oriented mind and winced as he lied, “Yes, my plan to…” he noticed the gift shop behind Maisie, “to get a tiny spoon from each place we go!”
“Peter,” Maisie took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, “you’re a shit liar. But I respect your privacy.” She shot him a quick wink. “Let me know if there’s a way I can help with your anti-American bachelor plan—as long as it doesn’t screw up my plan to see every Van Gogh painting in Paris!”
“Oh, I’d never do that,” Peter tried not to look too relieved at the change of subject. “It’s all you’ve been talking about for weeks.” He switched his luggage to his other hand. “I’m actually kind of concerned you’ll try to steal one of the Sunflowers.”
Maisie placed a hand over her heart in fake-shock, “Why, I’d never!”
The two laughed, knowing full well that she could if she really wanted to. And, he’d probably help her.
******
Traveling to the first hotel (if you could even call it that) was already one of Maisie’s favorite parts of the trip. The sky was blue, the water was gorgeous, the buildings were something out of a movie–everything was perfect. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the fresh air as the gondola moved swiftly through the canal toward the first vacation Maisie had ever taken. A small, peaceful smile settled on her face. Maybe this trip could be everything she wanted it to be. Even though she knew better, a flicker of hope danced around like butterflies in her stomach.
Maisie turned around in her excitement and reached for Peter’s hand, squeezing one. He was already looking at her, and his bright smile told her that he was thinking the same thing.
The familiar sound of a camera clicking forced her gaze from Peter. MJ dropped the disposable camera to her lap and shrugged at the two of them.
“Good picture opportunity.” Only Maisie saw the small smirk gracing the pretty brunette’s features.
Maisie let her get away with it. After all, her heart fluttered once more at the thought of seeing that picture once the trip was over.
“Alright, looks like we’re here!” Mr. Harrington announced as the gondola came to a stop next to a run-down building. “Er, they’re doing renovations to the place.”
The hotel could have been worse, but when Peter took a step into the lobby, it was directly into a puddle of water. Ned and Maisie made fun of him, quietly discussing the uselessness of his “Peter tingle” as May called it.
“This place is sinking,” Abe muttered, shaking his head.
“Uh, I think you mean ‘charming,’ Abe,” Mr. Dell replied.
“It stinks,” Flash deadpanned.
Maisie wrinkled her nose. Usually, she disagreed with Flash, but she did notice the faintest scent of mildew wafting from… everywhere. Still, better than the time she had to sleep on a park bench when her dad kicked her out. She was never one to complain.
“Alright everyone!” Mr. Harrington clapped his hands together, “Drop off your bags—we will meet at the da Vinci Museum at three!”
MJ snatched their room key from Mr. Harrington’s hands, and the two girls sprinted up the wooden stairs to their room. They wanted as much time on their own in Venice before the museum tour. When MJ opened the door, Maisie actually laughed out loud. Thanks to how lucky she’d been at the Avengers Compound last year, she actually thought her old closet could fit in the entire room. But, the small hotel in Venice still managed to squeeze in two twin beds and a sink.
Maisie threw her suitcase on the nearest bed and unzipped her backpack for her belt bag containing the essentials for touristing.
“Please tell me you aren’t wearing that in Venice,” MJ shot her a judgmental look.
“What?” Maisie frowned, “I thought they were cool now! I don’t like carrying around a whole backpack or purse, and—”
“And people wonder why Europeans hate Americans,” MJ grabbed a pair of sunglasses and put her wallet in the pocket of her cargo pants.
Maisie rolled her eyes and slung the crossbody belt bag over her shoulder, “You’re just mad I subscribed to a trend for once.”
The girls left the room, arguing about the advantages and disadvantages of influencer fashion as they made their way to the center of the city.
******
An hour later, MJ was stuck T-posing in the square with over twenty pigeons swarming her. Maisie hadn’t stopped laughing since the first one landed on her shoulder, stealing part of her sfogliatella. After taking several pictures on MJ’s disposable camera, the two decided to meet up with the others at the museum. Maisie hadn’t seen Peter in a while, but maybe he was out working on his “anti-American bachelor” plan or actually collecting tiny spoons.
“The Vaporetto system is actually—”
MJ was cut off by a man holding a bouquet of roses, offering a single stem to the two of them. Maisie smiled at the offer, admiring the deep red of the rose.
“Boh,” MJ said without a moment’s hesitation.
The man dropped his hand, glaring at her, and swiftly left the two teens alone.
Maisie’s jaw dropped and a laugh escaped, “What the hell did you just say to him?”
“Boh,” MJ repeated, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s my new favorite word. The Italians invented it, and I only just discovered it. It can mean a million things: ‘I don’t know’ and ‘Get out of my face’ are my favorites though.” She thought for a moment, “It’s like the anti-aloha.”
Maisie kept laughing, shaking her head, “You were born to say that word.”
“What word?” Peter asked, appearing in front of the two. A smile grew on his face seeing Maisie laughing.
MJ frowned at him, “Boh.”
Peter blinked, “Oh.”
Maisie laughed harder, and the three continued down the path toward the da Vinci Museum. They would be late, but they didn’t really care.
“Oh my god, there’s Ned and Betty,” Maisie pointed. The two were on a paddleboat ride in the canal, looking quite invested in each other’s company. “How romantic.”
MJ wrinkled her nose at Maisie’s comment but ignored it. Snatching her camera from Maisie, she bent down to take some pictures of a bunch of crabs running up the side of the street, away from the water.
“They look like they’re having fun.” Peter smiled in the couple’s direction, “Good for them.”
“I think he’s glad he abandoned his American bachelor in Europe plan,” Maisie joked.
Peter winced, “Yeah, I bet he is.”
As MJ wandered farther down the street, following the crabs, Maisie went to follow her, but Peter grabbed her hand. She wrapped her fingers around his at the familiar warmth of his touch. She turned and saw he was looking at her with such a determined expression that her heart started beating faster.
“Peter?” she asked. His gaze moved to where their hands intertwined.
“Maiz, I—” he cut himself off. “Wait, what…”
Maisie looked down, past their hands, and saw small waves lapping up on the side of the street. No, not waves–vibrations, Maisie realized. Peter’s head went on a swivel, searching for any signs of its origin. It was clear whatever this thing was had triggered his Spidey-sense; knowing that, Maisie was immediately on high alert.
Without another chance to figure out where it was coming from, the entire canal erupted in a geyser that rivaled Yellowstone.
“Holy shit!” Maisie’s eyes widened.
The geyser created a massive wave, sending Ned and Betty’s boat flying from the middle of the canal to crash into the street where Peter and Maisie stood. MJ sprinted from farther down the street to help them out from the boat.
“Are you guys alright?” Peter asked, helping Ned out from the paddleboat.
“Peter!” Maisie yelled, staring at the water. It wasn’t a geyser, she realized. The water swirled in the air, defying all laws of physics, and assembled into…a giant water monster? Peter and Maisie locked eyes in mutual panic.
“Ned, you gotta get everyone away from here,” Maisie pushed him toward the stairs.
“Where’s your suit?” Ned whisper-screamed. “What are you gonna do?”
“I can get it—” Maisie began, but Peter shook his head.
“We can’t! What, Spider-Man shows up in Venice? With the same class on another trip out of New York?” The Water Guy roared, as if to enunciate Peter’s point. “After D.C., I was lucky no one caught on.”
Maisie swore. Peter was right. Having a secret identity was difficult enough for Maisie, and she could teleport anywhere in the world. If both Spider-Man and Mischief were sighted in Europe, they would both be done for.
“Ned, go!” Peter yelled. He didn’t need to be reminded again; Betty and MJ were already halfway up the stairs away from the canal. Peter caught the arm of an older man before he could fall off the steps, helping him run as fast as he could up the stairs before doing the same for a woman with an ear-splitting scream. Maisie kept her eyes on the monster and sprinted down the end of the dock extending from the street, getting as close as she could without going for an accidental swim.
The Water Giant crashed through a nearby building, causing its instant collapse while flooding the entire street it stood on. The water itself seemed angry, like it was forced against its will to disrupt everything in its path. The Water Giant smashed into a hotel on the other side of the canal before punching down on a boat trying desperately to speed away to safety. Maisie’s mind was moving at record speed, trying to figure out how they could possibly fight this thing.
“Watch out!” Peter’s voice called out from behind her.
A tidal wave taller than three Maisies barrelled down the canal, heading straight for the dock and the street behind it. Maisie tilted her head, where did that even come from?
In her panicked state, Maisie realized Peter was too far away to reach without teleporting. The familiar sound of his web-shooters snapped her back to reality. Maisie turned and caught the webbing around her wrist before jumping into the air as high as she could toward him. Peter yanked once on the web connecting them, pulling Maisie toward him. He caught her in his arms before her feet had time to touch the ground. Instantly, Maisie teleported, and the two escaped the wave’s path of destruction.
Peter touched down across the canal, trying to ignore Maisie’s legs wrapped around him. She dismounted with ease and started to untangle the webbing from her wrist.
“That was fun,” Maisie shot him a cheeky smile.
“Yeah,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he pointed at the water. “This isn’t, though.”
The sounds of screaming caught both superheroes’ attention. People were running off the bridge over the largest part of the canal, but they were too slow. Maisie didn’t wait a second, teleporting as fast as she could to get people out of the way as the water built up to form a fist larger than a building. Peter wasn’t far behind her, jumping across wooden posts with superhuman speed and fortifying the foundation of the bridge with his webs. After Maisie moved the last Venetian citizen from harm’s way, she teleported to Peter.
“Wait, Mai—” Peter was interrupted by a wall of water catapulting both teenagers into the bridge’s wall. Maisie slammed her back on the concrete and spluttered, trying to rid her lungs of water. Peter wasn’t any better; the two of them were dripping wet and gasping for air. The Water Giant continued down the canal, smashing boats and bridges in its path.
Maisie’s eyes focused on the ground in front of her. The shopping stalls on the bridge were destroyed, including the one selling authentic Venetian masks.
“Peter,” Maisie snatched one up and tossed it toward him.
He caught it, frowned at the jester’s design, then decided it wasn’t worth discussing. Maisie found a full face mask, snapped off the part covering the eyes, and fastened the bottom half to her face.
“It’ll work for now,” she said, reaching for his hand. “C’mon, let’s go.”
The two teleported closer to the Water Giant, tracking it further toward the middle of the canal. We just need to disconnect it from the water source, Maisie thought. Maybe then it would lose its power?
“Hey!” Peter tugged on Maisie’s arm and pointed at the sky. “Who is that?”
Maisie’s eyes widened at a caped individual flying toward the Water Giant with green smoke billowing in their wake. She couldn’t see his face—his head was shielded by what could have been an astronaut helmet? Or a fishbowl? Maisie couldn’t decide. The Flying Fishbowl directed the smoke with expert precision, wrapping its tendrils around the Water Giant. How something in a gaseous state could hold something in a liquid state, Maisie had no idea, but she stopped applying the same laws of physics to the superhuman a long time ago.
Peter swung toward the Flying Fishbowl, panting as he yelled, “Hey, we can help!”
Maisie teleported next to him, but she remained silent, still assessing the arrival of another superpowered person. The Fishbowl turned to acknowledge the two young superheroes. At least, Maisie thought it did. It was harder to tell when it was a smoky sphere of nothing, instead of a face.
“She can teleport, and I’m really strong….and sticky!” Peter continued.
“I need to lead it away from the canals,” Fishbowl sounded like a man, especially when his words came out like an order.
“On it!” Peter jumped into action. Maisie paused a second longer, scanning the perimeter of the canal for any civilians left straggling. Fishbowl shot green lasers from his fist at the Water Giant, managing to piss it off enough to get its attention. Of course, the guy also had laser-hands. Maisie teleported into the air near the Giant’s face, punching directly in front of her, only to get a handful of canal water. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but if smoke could grab it and lasers could hurt it, why couldn’t she?
The Fishbowl had finally started to lure the Water Giant out of the canal, and Maisie trailed the battle, playing clean-up and ensuring civilians stayed out of harm’s way. Ahead, Maisie watched as Peter swung around the bell tower at Campo Santa Maria Formosa, trying to web the structure together despite the Water Giant’s determination to destroy it. In an instant, she teleported atop the bell tower for a better vantage point; it seemed that Peter wasn’t just fond of historical architecture—their entire class was huddled under the café across the street, directly in harm's way should the tower fall toward them.
“Mai—” the clang of the bell interrupted the boy. Whipping around, Maisie saw him lying under the bell, holding two strings of web tightly in each fist.
“Was that your head?” she tried not to wince.
The groan was the only reply she needed. The two pillars connected to Peter’s webs gave way, crumbling like dust, and Peter slid forward again. When he instinctively caught himself, the inertia caused his top half to hurtle forward, and his forehead collided with the bell, again. The webbing fell from his hands, and Maisie felt the tower tilt backward even more.
“Peter!” she yelled.
The boy blinked, clearly out of it. Maisie wondered if she could teleport the entire tower fast enough somewhere, but she didn’t know if it was worth it. At least it was falling in the opposite direction if her classmates. Peter looked forward and shot the webs again, pulling himself to his feet. He took a massive step forward and put one of his feet on the pillar in front of him, straining as he kept the tower from falling.
“What can I do?” Maisie’s powers allowed her some super strength, but nowhere near Peter’s.
“Aghhh!” was Peter’s only response.
“Right,” she mumbled, teleporting to the base of the tower. Maisie scanned the area and saw that no civilians were in danger of being crushed. That only left one more problem: the Water Giant. And, her class was watching the battle between the Fishbowl and Water Giant with intense focus—how could she help if they had a chance of recognizing her?
She’d never felt the weight of her secret identity like this before. She wondered if this was why Tony decided to tell the world instead of denying everything at the press conference several years ago. Maisie wanted to help, but she also wanted her normal life.
Before the girl could decide her next move, Fishbowl conjured his green smoke to shackle themselves around the Water Giant’s wrists. Then, from a triangular portal behind the monster, the green smoke wrapped itself around its neck. With one pull, the Water Giant was split in half without a water source to rebuild. The dirty canal water splashed lifelessly across the square, and the monster had been vanquished.
When it was clear that the danger had subsided, Brad Davis let out a whoop, and the rest of the Midtown students erupted in cheers for the flying man with the green smoke. Who was this guy?
The sound of a tower crashing to the ground disrupted her thoughts, and she teleported into the rubble. Peter’s Venetian mask lay discarded, and he was staring at something in his hand that Maisie couldn’t see.
She took off her own mask, “You alright?”
Peter scrambled, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around, “What?”
Maisie raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you were alright…”
“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, but he winced at the jerk of his head.
“Right,” Maisie stepped closer, examining Peter’s forehead. She knew that he healed fast, and this was no exception. Any concussion symptoms would be gone within the hour, but the growing bruise and small bump was still visible. Her left hand brushed the damp hair out of his eyes, careful not to touch the bruise. His hair was curly when it was wet, and she smiled. “Fine, maybe you’ll be alright.”
He smiled back, “No thanks to that Water Guy—what even was that?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m more curious about that flying astronaut guy. Where did he come from?”
Peter nodded. “I’m just glad he was here. I don’t know how we could have fought that thing on our own. Especially with our whole class watching.”
Maisie knew he was right, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
“Come on,” he reached out his hand. “Let’s get back to our trip. Water Guy is gone, and we’ve been gone too long. Someone will think we’re dead.”
She smirked, “I doubt that’d be their first thought.”
“Huh?”
“Nevermind, Pete,” she snorted and teleported the two of them away.
******
“It’s aliens, it has to be,” Ned didn’t look up from his laptop.
The whole class was watching the news in the lobby, trying to determine any new information on the monster that attacked them all that day. Maisie and MJ sat side by side on the stairs, listening. MJ didn’t seem too bothered by the Water Giant, but then again, she didn’t usually seem too bothered by anything. Maisie, however, was stuck in her own thoughts as she tried to decipher any information she could about the flying, caped Fishbowl guy.
“Buzzfeed said there’s a sailor called ‘Morris Bench’ who was exposed to an experimental underwater generator and got hydro powers,” Flash read from his phone.
“Yeah, you should definitely believe everything you read on the Internet,” MJ’s sarcasm flowed naturally from her tongue.
Maisie snorted, “What does that even mean? Why do superpowers always seem to come from ‘exposure to experimental’ whatever?”
Ned looked up from his laptop to shoot her a look as if to say, Really?
Touché, she relented, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Spider-Man could take him,” Flash crossed his arms and stood next to Brad across the room.
“Mischief, too,” Betty snapped. “And, she could kick Spider-Man’s ass and the green smoke guy at the same time!”
Maisie itched the innermost corner of her eye. She never knew how to react casually to Betty’s intense loyalty, so she glanced around the corner to where Peter was talking with May. He didn’t want to pay for overseas minutes, so he used the landline. It was cute, watching him lean against the wall and speak in hushed tones to update his aunt.
“I just want to know about the Flying Fishbowl,” Maisie faced forward, putting her chin in her hands.
“Looks like they’re talking about him now,” MJ said, pointing at the TV.
“How do you know so much Italian?” Maisie tilted her head, “I can’t understand a thing they’re saying when they’re talking so fast.”
MJ smirked, “That’s your fault for speaking French.”
“You won’t be saying that when I’m ordering you a croissant in Paris tomorrow,” Maisie posed. “Should I wear my beret, or is that a little too much?
“Maisie, you were wearing a belt bag today,” MJ deadpanned.
“It’s convenient—”
“He’s like Iron Man and Thor rolled into one,” Brad spoke, eyes wide in wonder. At the mention of Tony, Maisie fell silent.
“He’s alright,” Flash scoffed. “He’s no Spider-Man.”
“Okay, what is it with you and Spider-Man?” MJ called him out.
Peter leaned against the stairwell, rejoining the group. His phone call left him feeling a bit better about everything, as talking with May always did. His plan was still on: be a normal kid in Europe with his friends, take the girl to the Musée d’Orsay, and tell her how he feels in front of Starry Night over the Rhône. He already bought the tickets; Maisie had been talking about the museum ever since Paris was announced as one of the stops on the trip.
“What? He’s just awesome, okay? He protects the neighborhood, and y’know,” Flash shrugged. “He’s inspiring. He inspires me to be a better man.” At that, Flash noticed Peter’s return, “Oh, what’s up, dickwad?”
“Wait, guys, it sounds like his name’s Mysterio,” Brad announced. The group’s attention returned to the screen.
“No, l’uomo del misterio is Italian for ‘man of mystery.’ It just means they don’t know who he is,” MJ corrected. Maisie raised her eyebrows at her, and MJ only shrugged.
“Mysterio,” Ned tested it aloud. “Cool name.”
“Damn, and I wanted to keep calling him ‘The Flying Fishbowl,’” Maisie sighed.
“That’s why you’re not in charge of the names,” Ned retorted, and Maisie stuck her tongue out at him.
“So, you guys excited for Paris tomorrow? The Eiffel Tower, the cafés, the crêpes—” Peter would keep listing things if someone didn’t cut him off, so Maisie did.
“The Musée d’Orsay!” she sang, tapping her feet on the stairs in excitement.
He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, “Exactly.”
******
Maisie was brushing her teeth in her and MJ’s room when she got a text from Peter. It read simply: Come to my room, quick.
MJ wasn’t back from the lobby yet, so she was alone, but Maisie wasn’t willing to risk teleporting into Peter’s room unless she knew it was just him and Ned. Maybe Peter just needed saving from Betty and Ned’s newfound romance? She grabbed her phone as Peter texted again: Room is clear.
In a split second, Maisie stood in front of Peter.
“What’s wrong?” her concern lasted only a second.
“Glad you could join us, Miss McCall,” a voice said. In the corner of Peter’s room sat Nick Fury, eye-patch and all, pointing a gun at the two teenagers. The image would have been more intimidating, if not for the abrupt sound of snoring that made her jump instead. Ned was passed out on his bed, a small dart sticking out of his neck.
“You shot Ned?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“That’s what I said!” Peter sounded exasperated.
“It’s a mild tranquilizer—” Fury began.
“That’s just super unnecessary, wow,” Maisie took a step closer to Ned, who let out another loud snore. “At least we know he’s breathing.”
“He’ll be alright,” Fury looked like he wanted to shoot her too. With a sigh, he continued. “So, it’s nice to finally meet you. I saw you both at the funeral, but I didn’t think that was a good time to exchange numbers.”
“No, that would have been really inappropriate,” Peter replied. Maisie nodded in agreement, frowning.
Fury shot them a look, “That’s what I just said.”
“Glad we agree,” Maisie clapped her hands together, “So, what are you doing here? Why are you in a high school kid’s room at night? Someone might say that’s inappropriate, too, you know.”
Fury stared at her. Maisie stared back.
“The important thing is that you’re here,” Fury continued after a moment. “I tried to bring you both here, but you avoided me. Now, you’re here. What a coincidence.”
“Wait, is this a coincidence?” Peter asked.
“It doesn’t feel like a coincidence,” Maisie supplied.
Fury leaned forward, “I used to know everything. Then, I come back five years later, and I know nothing. No intel, no team,” he shot them each a glare, “and a couple of high schoolers are dodging my calls.”
Maisie frowned. Why did Fury think he needed them so bad? Why did he have to bother them?
“Now,” Fury leaned back in his chair again, “here’s what I do know. A week ago, a village in Mexico was wiped out by a cyclone. Witnesses say that the cyclone had a face. Three days later, a similar event occurred in Morocco. A village was—”
Fury was interrupted by Mr. Harrington standing in the doorway, knocking thrice on the wall to get their attention. Thankfully, Fury was out of sight as long as he stayed in his corner, but his gun was trained on the door.
“Hey! I’m just making the rounds to see if anyone needs any counseling after today’s traumatic events,” Mr. Harrington said, a smile on his face. “Maisie, you’re aware that it’s almost curfew, and I can’t have any girls lingering in the boys’ rooms—”
“No, we’ll be fine, thank you!” Peter cut him off, his face turning red.
“And I was just about to go to my room,” Maisie replied, also red. “I was just…” she grabbed a sweatshirt from Peter’s bed. “I was just borrowing a sweatshirt! I’m always pretty cold, so…”
“Alright…well, I’m not qualified to actually—” Harrington noticed Ned, and he began speaking in a raised whisper, “Oh, he’s passed out already, sorry about that. Maisie, get to your room before ten. Goodnight guys!”
Once he was gone, Peter rushed forward to close the door. When he turned back to face the room, he realized that Maisie was again wearing his Star Wars shirt.
“Sorry, that was our teacher…” Maisie said to Fury, dropping the sweatshirt on the bed. “What were you saying?”
“A village was destroyed by what may well be another world-threatening—”
“Babe, are you still awake?” a feminine voice called through the door: Betty. “You aren’t answering any of my texts.”
“Uh, he’s asleep, Betty,” Peter called in response. Maisie covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with humor.
“Already?” Betty replied. “Oh, okay.”
Fury glared at the two teens and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, another interruption.
“Hey, boys,” Mr. Dell called through the door. “So, that canal water today was filled with dangerous bacteria…” his voice droned on about safety measures, but Maisie held her hands over her ears and shook her head.
“Gross, gross, gross—”
“...so, let me know if you develop any vomiting…”
Fury stood up and snatched his projector from the end table, “If another person comes to that door, we’re gonna attend another funeral.”
Maisie lowered her hands from her ears and frowned. Peter wasn’t overly fond of his choice of words either, but Fury either didn’t care or didn’t notice.
“You two—suit up,” the man ordered, heading toward the window. “Meet me out back in five.”
With that, he disappeared from sight.
Peter and Maisie stared at the window, then looked at one another.
“Do we have to?” Maisie tried not to sound like a whining toddler.
To his credit, Peter looked to consider the thought of ghosting Nick Fury for a second time. Still, he wanted to know what the deal was with Mysterio. And, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, so did Maisie. Peter looked sheepish as he reached for his suitcase and pulled out the familiar blue and red suit.
“Yeah, I thought so,” she reached under Peter’s bed where she hid hers earlier that day. Safer there than in her and MJ’s room. Peter laughed as he shrugged off his shirt, tossing it on the bed behind him. He reached to take off the pajama pants he’d only just put on, but Maisie interrupted him with a shriek. She’d stood back up, holding her suit in front of her face which started turning a bright pink against her will.
“Oh, right,” his cheeks flared. “That’s my—”
“Turn around!” she scolded, trying to suppress the incredulous laughter threatening to dull the effect of her words. She avoided his eyes, instead looking at Ned as he let out another long snore.“Why didn’t you wait until I wasn’t looking?”
“Well, are you looking now?” Peter retorted. “We don’t have much time, I was just hurrying—”
“Right, right, sorry…” she turned her back to him. Maisie went to start changing as well, then thought better of it. She grabbed a pillow from Ned’s bed and carefully balanced it over his eyes, making sure he could still breathe. Wincing, she softly plucked the tranquilizer dart from his neck. Proud of herself, she stepped back.
“Really?” Peter smirked. “He’s asleep.”
Maisie narrowed her eyes and tossed the dart at him, which he caught with ease. He kept his smug look as Maisie continued glaring at him.
“Oh, right!” he apologized, turning away. “Sorry!”
******
The two superheroes met Nick Fury alongside a gondola, leading them to a makeshift super secret agent base that Maisie tried her absolute best not to freak out about. She’d been to SHIELD facilities all the time growing up, but when that turned out to be HYDRA, she stopped trusting any kind of organized intelligence. Well, she stopped trusting them right around the time her mother was impaled by Loki’s scepter and aliens invaded New York, but that was a different story.
When they arrived, Peter stepped off first and held out a hand for Maisie.
“Odds they just want to say ‘hi’ and let us go back to our trip?” she joked.
He didn’t answer, which Maisie thought wasn’t a great sign.
Spider-Man and Mischief followed Fury into the facility. The place was unassuming from the outside, looking like any old Venetian building that was left to crumble due to rising sea levels. The perfect spot for someone like Fury to set up.
“Parker,” Fury stopped, holding a hand out to stop him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glasses case. “Before I tell you what’s going on—here.” Fury handed the case over to Peter, “Stark left these for you.”
Maisie’s eyes widened. Peter’s face under his mask wasn’t any less surprised.
“What?” he asked. “Really?”
Looking over his shoulder, Maisie watched as he opened the case, showing a pair of sunglasses with black frames and purple lenses. Peter looked up at her, and she smiled. Tony loved his eccentric eyewear; she wanted to see what they looked like on Peter.
“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” Fury quoted. He shot the teen a look, “Stark said that you wouldn’t get that because it’s not a Star Wars reference.” Then, he pointed at Maisie, “He said you’d need to ask her to explain it to you, just like everything else.”
“Not everything,” Maisie shook her head, touched by Tony’s words. He always did give her more credit than she deserved; then again, so did Peter. She glanced at him, and saw he was already looking at her.
“Come on,” Fury announced, turning on his heel. “And by the way, you can lose the masks. Everybody here’s seen you without it, and you’ll just be breathing through spandex for no good reason.”
Peter thought for a second before slipping his off. Once she saw his face, Maisie rolled her eyes and pulled down her mask in solidarity. With her other hand, she freed her hair from where it was tucked into her suit’s collar, shaking her head in frustration.
Flipping the blonde locks over her shoulder, “Why did we even need to suit up, then?”
Peter’s mouth hung slightly open as he recovered from the image he swore only happened in movies: How did she do that?
“Pete?” Maisie raised an eyebrow. His mouth closed so fast he almost bit his tongue.
“Kids!” Fury sounded even more impatient than he’d been all night. Maisie shot Peter a confused look and jogged to catch up. Fury pointed at a brunette woman sitting at a computer, “Over there we have Maria Hill.” He pointed at another agent cleaning a crossbow across the room, “That is Dmitri, and this…” Fury gestured at the man by the holographic display above the center table. “This is Mr. Beck.”
The man wore a golden breastplate resembling an old-fashioned suit of armor in addition to a long maroon cape that looked very familiar.
“Mysterio?” Peter mumbled.
“What?” Mr. Beck asked, taking a step forward. It clicked for Maisie as soon as he spoke: he was the guy from the canal. The one who shot lasers from his hands and lassoed the Water Giant with green smoke.
“Doesn’t matter,” Peter cleared his throat, shaking his head as he stepped in line with Maisie. “It’s just what our friends have been calling you.”
“Well, you guys can call me Quentin,” Mr. Beck smiled, reaching his hand forward to shake. Peter obliged, and Maisie cautiously followed. “You two handled yourselves well out there today.” Quentin looked back at Peter, “I saw what you did with that tower. We could use someone like you on my world.”
“Thanks,” Peter’s smile grew at the praise, then he paused, “Wait, did you say ‘your world’?”
Maisie crossed her arms, taking a step away to assess the hologram.
“Mr. Beck is from Earth,” Fury said, looking a bit smug when he continued, “just not from ours.”
Mr. Beck nodded, “There are multiple realities. This is Earth Dimension 616, and I’m from Earth 833.”
“Who gets to pick the numbers?” Maisie scoffed. All eyes landed on her, and she stiffened. “Sorry.”
“Wait, so you’re saying there’s a multiverse?” Peter’s eyes brightened. “I thought this was all theoretical, I mean, this changes how we understand the initial singularity!” Peter joined Maisie at the hologram, shaking her arm in excitement, “We’re talking about an eternal inflation system—”
“But how does that even work with all the quantum—”
“I know, it’s insane!” he exclaimed. Peter took a quick glance of the room and saw that all agents were looking at him with mixed expressions of confusion and exasperation, “Er, sorry. It’s really cool.” When he looked back at Maisie, he saw no confusion, no exasperation; she stood with furrowed brows, chewing on the inside of her lip and deep in thought.
Mr. Beck broke the silence, “Never apologize for being the smartest one in the room.”
Maisie watched Peter’s smile grow, and he looked at her like, Did you hear that? She tried to ignore Nick Fury rolling his eyes, and she gave a half-smile back.
“Anyway,” Agent Hill tapped a couple keys on her computer and the hologram in front of them changed.
The hologram showed four figures, including the Water Giant. Maisie squinted as each figure rotated on the screen. While the giant they fought was made up of water, the other giants were made of the other elements. There was one that resembled the cyclone that Fury described earlier—does that mean that there were going to be more?
“They were born in stable orbits within black holes. Creatures formed from the primary elements: air, water, fire, and earth,” Mr. Beck explained, pointing at each hologram.
Maisie bit her tongue, but she locked eyes with Peter and knew they were thinking the same thing. Avatar: The Last Airbender was one of their go-to, feel-good binge watches after they came back from the Blip.
“The Science Division had a technical name, but we just called them Elementals,” Mr. Beck finished.
“Versions of them exist across our mythologies,” Hill chimed in, changing the image again. Flashes of disasters throughout history showed on the hologram. “Turns out, the myths are real.”
“Like Thor,” Peter made the connection. He crossed his arms, “Thor was a myth, but now I study him in my physics class.”
“These myths are threats,” Fury shot the boy a look. Peter sobered instantly.
“They first materialized on my Earth many years ago,” Mr. Beck gestured at the hologram, showing an Earth nearly identical to theirs. “We mobilized and fought them, but with each battle, they grew, got stronger. I was part of the last battalion left trying to stop them. All we did was delay the inevitable.”
“The Elementals are here now,” Hill changed the image again, showing their Earth. “They’re attacking the same coordinates, and our satellites confirm it.”
“Thank Mr. Beck for destroying the first three,” Fury took over. Maisie spared a glance at the multiversal hero. “There’s only one left: fire.”
The image changed again, and the Earth was engulfed in flames. Maisie blinked, and the image of Beck’s Earth dissolved into ash.
“The strongest of them all. It’s the one that destroyed my Earth,” Mr. Beck looked down. Maisie saw a ring on his left hand. “It’s the one that took my family.”
Suddenly, this fire Elemental became a bigger deal than Maisie was prepared for. This thing destroyed an entire Earth on its own?
“And, it will be in Prague in approximately forty-eight hours,” Hill tapped a key. The coordinates zeroed in on Prague, showing a location over 500 miles from where they currently were. Maisie’s brows furrowed, Wait a second—
“We have one mission: kill it,” Fury finished. His one good eye stared down the two teens, “And, you’re coming with us.”
It sounded like an order. Both Maisie and Peter knew it.
“Did you say Prague?” Peter finally asked.
“To fight the Fire Elemental and stop it from burning up our entire planet?” Maisie deadpanned. “And you think you need our help?”
“Yeah, Mr. Fury, this all seems very big-time, you know, huge superhero kind of stuff,” Peter agreed. “I mean, we’re just friendly neighborhood superheroes…”
“Bitch please, you’ve been to space!” Fury waved him off.
Maisie opened her mouth, but luckily for everyone, Peter beat her to it. “Yeah, but that was an accident—sir, come on. There’s gotta be someone else you could use? Like, what about Thor?”
“Off-world.”
“Doctor Strange?”
“Unavailable.”
“Captain Marvel?” Maisie chimed in, raising an eyebrow.
Fury narrowed his eyes, “Don’t invoke her name.”
“You’re being difficult on purpose,” she shot back.
“Says the moody teenage girl.”
“Says the moody adult man!” Maisie raised her voice. “We really want to help, trust me, but seriously—do you understand what you’re asking here?”
Fury didn’t answer.
“Look, my aunt will kill us if we leave the trip, and if our class sees us like this in Europe after what happened in D.C., then they’ll figure out who we are and then the whole world will figure it out, and then we’re done,” Peter shook his head, finally allowing himself to take a breath.
Fury stared at the two superheroes. “Okay.”
“What?” Maisie asked.
“I understand,” he replied. He still hadn’t lost his attitude, so Maisie wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he understood. “Why don’t you both get back before your teachers get suspicious?”
Peter and Maisie shared a look.
“Dmitri, take them back to the hotel, please,” Fury ordered.
“I can get us back,” Maisie watched him, cautious. “Thank you, Fury.”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Fury!” Peter turned to face Mr. Beck, “It was nice to meet you.”
Mysterio, Mr. Beck, nodded with a disappointed smile, “See you, kid.”
Maisie held out her hand for Peter to take. Mr. Beck gave her a nod, to which she managed one in return. She felt guilty for wanting to leave, to not help—but there was too much at stake in her and Peter’s lives. Not only that, she wasn’t sure that they could handle it. Fury needed to call on the big leagues, and as much as she hated to admit it, she and Peter were not it. At least, not yet.
With one final solemn look at Mysterio, Maisie teleported.
******
They landed in Peter’s room. Thankfully, the door was still closed. It was around midnight, and Ned still snored loudly in the bed opposite Peter’s.
“I should get to my room,” Maisie mumbled, still deep in thought. “We have a long travel day tomorrow.”
Peter nodded, “Yeah.”
“Do you think—”
“Maisie—”
Maisie smiled, “You go.”
“No, you…” Peter sat down on his bed.
The girl sighed, sitting next to him. “Do you think we’re making the right decision?”
Peter looked at her for a moment. He imagined ditching the school trip, the two of them running off to try to save the world in Prague, unable to explain to their classmates or teachers what was going on. He imagined the two of them ending up on the news: ‘Spider-Man and Mischief in Prague.’ Then, he imagined Maisie, head to toe with burns and crying out in pain. He remembered the fear and desperation in her eyes as she turned into dust. He remembered the version of Maisie that died the same day that Tony did. He remembered her lifeless body and blank face, eyes unfocused and staring skyward at nothing in particular.
“Yes,” Peter finally said. “I think we are.”
Maisie knew that he meant it.
“What were you gonna say?” she asked, nudging him with her shoulder.
He handed over the glasses case. Maisie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
Maisie smiled and opened the case. She placed the glasses on Peter’s face, careful not to touch the lenses. Under the wide frames, Peter looked at her, still waiting for an answer. Her nose scrunched and she smiled even brighter, showing off the dimples Peter came to love.
“It means,” she started, brushing his hair out of his face, “that he loved you. And he wanted you to have a piece of him after he was gone.” Peter looked down, but she wasn’t finished. “And, it means that he wanted you to know it. And believe it.”
He looked up at her again. “Thank you.”
It was suddenly very obvious to both of them how close they were sitting. Peter might have imagined it, but he swore he saw Maisie's eyes drift down to his mouth.
Ned let out the loudest snore, and both teens jumped as if awakened from a trance.
“I should go,” Maisie stood abruptly and headed to the door.
“Wait!” Peter stopped her. He tossed his sweatshirt at her. “Just in case, y’know, Mr. Harrington or—”
“Right,” she cut him off, smiling sheepishly. Maisie put it on over her Mischief suit, successfully hiding most of it from view. “I mean, it’s not my worst look…”
Peter shook his head, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Maiz.”
Maisie smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.”
Maisie closed the door as softly as she could, wincing at the creak of the old wooden frame. She didn’t run into anyone on the short walk through the hotel hallway, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the silence in her own hotel room. She was relieved to have successfully avoided an awkward lecture from Mr. Harrington, or even worse, Mr. Dell. With her eyes already halfway closed, Maisie started to change into her pajamas, wishing that she was already asleep.
“Where were you?” MJ’s blunt voice cutting through the darkness.
“Ah!” Maisie tripped over her suitcase as she ducked behind her bed. It was dark, but she couldn’t risk MJ seeing a glimpse of her suit. “Er—nowhere! Just… with Peter.” Before MJ got any ideas about turning on a light, Maisie shimmied out of her suit, leaving her in only bike shorts and a sports bra.
“With Peter,” MJ’s voice had a slight edge to it. “Doing…what?”
“Uh,” Maisie threw the suit in her suitcase, covered it with a mountain of unfolded clothes, and pushed it under her bed. With that, she looked at MJ, “What do you mean ‘doing what’? We were just hanging out.”
Maisie’s superhuman eyesight allowed her to see MJ raise an eyebrow.
“What? We were!” Maisie argued. Reaching down, she threw on the nearest sweatshirt and leapt onto her bed. The springs squeaked while the blonde got comfortable, but MJ didn’t say anything.
“Right,” MJ smirked. “Nice sweatshirt.” Maisie looked down; of course, it was the one she just stole from Peter.
Maisie crossed her arms over her chest, “I was cold…”
“Simp…” MJ laid down, satisfied with her teasing.
“I am not—”
“You are,” MJ interrupted. This time, she only sounded half-joking.
Maisie stared up at the ceiling, frowning.
“Yeah, I am,” Maisie mumbled.
The other girl couldn’t see, but MJ smiled, “I know.”
Maisie had never had a girlfriend before—someone she could talk to about her feelings and not be embarrassed about sounding like an idiot. Or, someone who’d tell her if she was being an idiot and still be there for her anyway. With a start, Maisie realized MJ was her best friend, and probably one of the only people on Earth that knew her. At least, most of her.
MJ knew the Midtown High Maisie. The one who hung around the Academic Decathlon team, sang in the choir, and had the Stark Internship before Thanos showed up. MJ knew the Maisie that made Peter host dorky movie nights for her, MJ, and Ned. In the two years she’d known her, MJ became her best friend.
Why did she feel like she still had to lie to her?
“Hey, MJ…” Maisie started speaking before she realized what she was doing. Her mouth was open, but words wouldn’t come out.
“Yes, you can sit next to Peter on the train tomorrow, I get it,” MJ yawned and turned onto her side, facing the wall away from Maisie. “I won’t be mad, I promise.”
Maisie didn’t say anything else. She just stared at the ceiling and waited as her best friend fell asleep.
******
The next morning, the entire class met outside as they waited for Mr. Dell and Mr. Harrington to check them out of the hotel. Maisie sat on a bench with her sunglasses on, leaning her head on the stone wall behind her with her eyes closed. It was safe to say that she didn’t get the best night of sleep that night. MJ sat next to her, focused on a book Maisie didn’t remember the name of.
“Hey!” a bright and cheery voice made Maisie jump.
The girl pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, “Hi, Pete.”
“Are you ready for the best part of the trip?” He looked more excited than Maisie thought possible for a travel day, but she couldn’t help but smile. She knew what he meant: Paris. His excitement was contagious, as usual.
“The eleven hour train ride?” Maisie punched her fist in the air. “MJ’s so excited, she’s starting her book early, so she won’t have anything to do on the train except stare out the window like an early 2000s coming of age movie!”
MJ closed her book while keeping her page, taking a break only to smack Maisie on the arm with it before returning to reading.
“Ow. That’s hardcover!” Maisie rubbed her arm in mock pain as Peter laughed.
“Oh, there’s Ned,” Peter jogged over to him, and the girls were alone again.
“He’s so obsessed with you,” MJ said without looking up.
“He is not,” Maisie put her sunglasses back on her face and resumed her previous position. Farther down the side street, she watched Peter and Ned’s special handshake. “He’s just very excited about Paris, and so am I.”
The hotel doors swung open, and their teachers finally emerged with their luggage.
“Good news!” Mr. Harrington exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “We’re going to Prague!” Maisie sat straight up in shock, eyes wide and locked on Peter’s down the street.
“What?” she screeched.
“The tour company called! They upgraded us, you know, after the…problems yesterday,” Mr. Harrington looked proud of himself. “You should have heard me on the phone with them. I really gave them hell.”
“All I heard was crying,” Mr. Dell mumbled.
The teachers started to lead the class down the road where they were meant to get a bus to the train to Paris. Maisie snatched her suitcase and caught up with Peter and Ned.
“What the hell is happening?” she bit out. Ned looked back and forth between the two.
“I think,” Peter’s jaw was locked, telling her that he was a lot more angry than she thought he was. The two arrived at their class’ new ride: a black coach bus with tinted windows and a familiar bus driver named Dmitri. “Nick Fury just hijacked our summer vacation.”
“Awesome!” Ned’s eyes widened.
The two superheroes just looked at him.
“...Sorry.”
*****
True to MJ’s word, she wasn’t upset when Maisie opted to sit next to Peter on the bus. There were enough rows of seats for each student to sit alone, and it was clear that she wanted to take advantage of that anyway. The same could not be said for Ned and Betty, who made sure they were sitting as close as possible in their row.
Maisie’s forehead rested on the glass window, but she wasn’t paying attention to the sights outside. Peter hadn’t said a word since the two made their way to the very back row of the bus with evident frustration. Maisie couldn’t help the glare she gave Dmitri when boarding the bus, but the spy didn’t look slightly affected.
Maisie had done her best to smother her disappointment in missing the Paris stop on the tour, but it was easier said than done. Peter’s excitement only grew hers—she was so looking forward to it. She swiped at a runaway tear, cursing herself for being so immature. But still, there was an image of her and Peter holding hands in the Musée d’Orsay, wandering the streets in search of something sweet, and taking an unforgettable picture in front of the Eiffel Tower. The dream image of the two of them was just that: a dream. There, they didn’t worry about Prague’s impending doom or the direction of Avengers’ leadership. There, they didn’t have a care in the world: there was only the Starry Night Over The Rhône and Sunflowers.
The girl finally turned away from the window and found MJ’s seat a couple rows in front. She had her headphones in, and Maisie knew she was right about the “coming of age movie” joke. Looking at her friend, the conversation from the night before replayed itself in her mind. MJ was her best friend, and she was sick of hiding everything from her. But, if Maisie wanted to be honest with MJ, she had to clear it with Peter. Maisie wasn’t sure she’d be able to tell her full story without him, he was in so much of it. They were in this together—her secret was Peter’s as much as it was hers. The truth of that statement might have scared her before, but now, it only brought comfort.
Looking away from MJ, she laid her eyes on Peter. The boy was fiddling with the glasses case again, opening and closing it with a small snap each time.
“Peter,” Maisie began, already nervous.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, opening the case one more time. He thought she was complaining about the noise. When Maisie opened her mouth to correct him, Peter removed the glasses from the case and put them on. The girl’s words caught in her throat, suddenly overcome with grief. She wondered if it would ever get easier to mourn those she lost. She wondered when Tony wore them for the last time. She wondered when Tony decided to leave them for Peter. The girl closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the window.
When Peter looked back down at the case, he noticed a small slip of white paper hiding behind the black velvet interior. He pulled the note out and read: For the next Tony Stark, I trust you. P.S. Say EDITH.
Eyes widening, he followed Tony’s directions, “EDITH.”
“Please stand by for retinal and biometric scan,” a feminine voice spoke. A blue light shone into his eyes, and with another blink, it was gone. “Retinal and biometric scan accepted.”
“Hello?” he whispered.
“What?” Maisie sat up.
“No, not you,” Peter pointed at his glasses.
“Hello, Peter.” the voice continued. “I am EDITH, Tony Stark’s augmented-reality security and defense system.”
“What?” Maisie asked again.
“The glasses are talking to me!” he whispered again.
“No way,” Maisie scrambled to get closer to him, putting her ear right next to his. Peter froze at the sudden closeness.
“Would you like to see what I can do?” EDITH asked. “EDITH stands for ‘Even Dead I’m The Hero.’ Tony loved his acronyms.”
Maisie let her head fall to Peter’s shoulder, laughing softly. “Yeah, he did.”
“I have access to the entire Stark Global Security network, including multiple defense satellites, as well as back doors to all major telecommunication networks,” EDITH continued.
“Whoa,” Peter murmured. “I can see everyone’s phones.” His eyes narrowed on Brad, seeing his search history listing several links to “Best Romantic Places in Prague.” Peter would have been more upset if it weren’t for the weight of Maisie’s head on his shoulder as they listened to EDITH. Peter’s eyes wandered around the bus until they landed on MJ, “Oh, hey, MJ’s texting you.”
Maisie’s head shot up in a panic, “Don’t read that!”
Peter closed his eyes and ducked his head like he was dodging an attack. Realization dawned on him, “Wait, why?”
The girl’s phone buzzed, but she didn’t look at it. “Uh, no reason.” She’d check it later.
Suddenly, the bus came to a stop, and Mr. Harrington stood up to address the class. He said something about a rest stop, but Peter was still looking at Maisie with confusion.
“Hey, everyone’s leaving,” she pointed. Peter took off the glasses and returned them to their case as Maisie stood up to wait for him to move. “C’mon, Pete, I have to pee.”
As they finally made it off the bus, Dmitri put a hand out to stop them, forcing Maisie to run straight into Peter’s back. Without a word, the agent pointed at a hole-in-the-wall bar that Maisie thought had no business existing in the middle of nowhere… she thought maybe they were in Austria, but at this point, she had no clue. A woman poked her head out of the doorway, and it was evident that this was another one of Fury’s changes to their itinerary. Maisie watched longingly as MJ, Ned, and Betty made their way to the bathroom.
“If Fury’s in there, I’m having a drink,” the girl grumbled. Peter couldn’t help the smirk on his face. He knew she was serious too.
Peter went first, cautiously opening the door to find the tall woman they saw in the doorway waiting for them. She stood across the room with her arms crossed.
“Close the door,” the woman ordered with a thick Austrian accent.
Maisie frowned, but she obliged. “Okay, what—”
“Take off your clothes,” the woman commanded. Peter and Maisie exchanged an incredulous look.
“Sorry, what?
“Excuse me?”
The woman only looked annoyed with their slowness. “You told Fury that Spider-Man and Mischief cannot be seen in Europe. So, I made you these.” She gestured at the black bag on the foosball table. “New suits.”
Maisie snatched the bag off the table, “You know what? I trust you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it fits fine—” Peter nodded aggressively.
“Take off your clothes!” she ordered again. “Now! Hurry up!”
“Look, lady.” Maisie’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t care what you say or if you are an agent of Fury’s. I’m a minor, and I’m not changing in front of you. Who knows? You could be a child molester or something, and we’d have no idea.”
The room was silent. Peter sighed in exasperation, but he was still thankful.
“If we only have ten minutes, I need to go to the bathroom. Let’s go,” Maisie’s order sounded a bit scarier than the woman’s did, at least to Peter. “Thanks for the suit.”
As they left, the woman called out, “Good luck.”
Maisie unzipped the bag as they walked back. In it were two black suits folded perfectly: one for Peter, and one for Maisie. They didn’t look like either of their usual suits, and Maisie frowned when she dug through the bag and saw that they both had full face masks.
“We can fix that, no problem,” Peter noticed too.
“What’d you guys get?” Brad Davis appeared out of nowhere, stopping them with a big smile. “A souvenir from our rest stop?”
Maisie shot him a smile back, “No, no, I just needed a quick outfit change.” She zipped the bag shut before Brad got any ideas, “This is my extra carry-on.”
Brad laughed, shaking his head, “You have an extra carry-on?” He punched Peter in the arm, like he’d also find it funny. Peter tried to join in, but Maisie simply raised an eyebrow.
“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “‘Scuse me, Brad, but if I wait any longer to pee, I’m gonna do it right here.” Brad stopped laughing, but Peter laughed harder. “Take this for me?”
“Oh, sure!” Brad moved to grab the bag, but Peter put a hand out to stop him.
“She meant me, man,” Peter said. The laughter was gone, but there was a trace of amusement on his face when he looked at the other boy. Brad’s happy-go-lucky attitude seemed to drain from his face. Maisie’s eyes flicked between them, trying to figure out where the obvious tension came from. “Thanks though.”
“Okay…” Maisie drew out, starting to back away to the bathroom. “Be right back.”
Peter didn’t look away from Brad as he replied to her, “I’ll save you a seat!”
As soon as Maisie was out of earshot, Brad’s smile dropped completely.
“Look, I see you’re trying to get with Maisie,” Brad said. “I respect it, but I like her, too. You’ve been in the friend-zone for years, it’s clear she doesn’t like you like that, alright? You had your chance, but you didn’t take it.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Brad’s confidence never wavered. “I’ve been watching you two all year since you Blipped back, and nothing’s happened. I heard that you even live with her now, and still—nothing. It’s time for someone else to shoot their shot.” The boy held up his hands, and started backing away toward the bus. “You deserve the truth, man.”
With that, the boy left Peter standing alone, still clutching the black bag.