Margarita
After taking sending Monday’s picture to his Aunt Peter missed the next four days of messaging photos as he fell back into his routine of work, study and sleep.
It wasn’t until Aunt May called Friday night that he realised with blind panic that he hadn’t left the apartment for anything other than work or Spider-Man patrols since she had left.
In his haste to jump up and appear like he was actively doing something even to himself he fell straight off the couch and over the coffee table while answering the phone.
“Hey Aunt May,” he rubbed his head anxiously. “How’s Aunty Ellie?”
“Peter Benjamin Parker you get your rear out of that apartment immediately.” Her voice took on the deadly edge of a cross mother as he winced. “You promised me young man and I know you haven’t kept that promise yet.”
“Sorry Aunt May I’ve been busy,” he sighed as he hauled himself up off of the floor and shoved his feet into shoes. “I’ll go do something right now ok?”
“Thank you Peter,” he could hear the rustle and clicking of her knitting needles in the background and the familiar sound comforted him. “Now tell me how your experiment is going?”
Peter grinned as he shoved his wallet into his pocket and wrapped himself in a coat; the nights were getting chillier. Locking the door behind himself he decided to walk through a nearby park to the Starbucks a couple of blocks away. He regaled his aunt with stories of incompetent lab assistants and the bets he’d overheard his fellow researchers were making on the upcoming Stark Christmas staff party.
He’d walked two blocks and through the park before he realised he’d been laughing and talking to his aunt like he hadn’t in a long time. When she was there she heard all his work stories as they happened and in smaller comments without the embellishments: he was usually too exhausted from work to see the humour in the mistakes of the interns. Something he’d never thought he’d do.
“Alright I better go,” he laughed as he approached the coffee shop. “I’m here now so I’ll get my coffee and send you a picture how about that?”
“That sounds lovely Dear,” May hummed. “Good night Peter I love you.”
“Love you too Aunt May,” he replied as he hung up the phone and strolled comfortably towards the doors of the Starbucks.
However before he could even lift his hand to open the door his Spidey senses tingled; having the same bad timing he thought he’d outgrown in high school.
He rolled his eyes to himself and swiftly changed direction to investigate the nearby shopfronts. Most were open bars selling food or drinks of one theme or another; the different smells and sounds charging the air with excitement that Peter felt compelled to sidestep. He moved through the light crowd enjoying the night without involving himself in the social revelry.
Continuing down the street he felt the tingle of not right again however it didn't progress to the ‘oh crap’ of complete disaster.
Passing by a Mexican joint he would have continued on if a sudden hush in the crowd hadn’t brought a familiar voice to the attention of his exceptional hearing.
“Tacos for everyone!” The crowd cheered the voice. “Margaritas for everyone!” The crowd exploded with screams and laughter as Peter squeezed his way through the back of the swarm surrounding the bar at the back of the shop.
On the bar top dressed in pink sombrero was an unarmed familiarly masked face in red and black spandex.
The masked man handed over what looked like at least ten thousand dollars to the bar staff then started handing out the drinks from his seat on the bar to the people around him. They cheered and grinned at him. A man they didn't know, who killed someone in cold blood only a few days before and they probably thought he was some new hero.
Peter whipped out his phone and started a message to a number he knew he should not have kept.
‘How do you even drink with the mask?’
He hit send before he could second guess himself and headed back to the storefront and its assorted tables to take a seat while he waited to receive a reply.
Flocks of people started for the shop as people must have heard the good news of bountiful booze.
“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” The sultry voice shocked Peter when his Spidey sense didn't warn him of a threat. He jumped in his seat and whirled around to stare open mouthed at the masked man behind him.
“Wha-?” Peter stuttered pushing his glasses up his nose in a practiced gesture. “I’m uh, messaging my Aunt? She wanted proof I left the house?”
“Oh,” the masked man moved back a step holding his hand up in a placating gesture like he was talking to a skittish horse. “Calm down I don’t bite uninvited. I thought you might be someone I was texting.”
“Oh,” Peter ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Sorry I guess?”
“Nah its all good,” the man placed a margarita on the table. “Here have this you look like you need it.”
The mask winked at him before the man melted back into the crowd in the hooting bar.
Staring down at the drink in front of him then back after the masked mystery man Peter shrugged; he took a picture of the drink and sent it to Aunt May with the caption: ‘I thought coffee might keep me up all night.’
...
Peter didn't know what to do with himself after he’d sent the picture to his aunt. He quickly realised he’d taken a drink off of a quite possibly villainous stranger and was way out of his social depth alone in a themed bar full of college kids so he left the drink on the table and slid away through the crowds now celebrating on the sidewalk.
Within half an hour he was back outside the bar this time on the roof listening to the seemingly endless frivolity happening inside; cheers were constantly rising, snatches of song vibrated the ceiling he was laying on and Spiderman awkwardly tried to figure out if he was stalking a potential threat or spying on a good guy he’d texted who’d made a lethal mistake.
Until he decided that socially inept Peter Parker had texted the guy not the crime fighting hero side.
Nodding to himself Spider-Man left the rooftop of the bar and patrolled along the street jumping from low roof to low roof barely needing his webs to assist the movements.
Spider-Man followed one of his patrol patterns of bars, pawn shops and back alleys webbing petty criminals to parking meters before heading back to his apartment.
Peter Parker went to bed disappointed.
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