1964-02-20 - (Un)Expected Visitor
Summary: Peter drops by to check on Aunt May, who was preparing for a dinner date.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
peter may 

The soft and sweet sounds of jazz play on the radio; the apartment lights were dimmed down enough for Aunt May to relax with a good book. Though, there wasn't any reading to be had there, a lovely pot of stew was on the stove, oversized, the aroma of food filling the air, the only light from the kitchen was the dim glow of the fire of the stove, the heat on low, a slow burn that matches the tempo of the song.

Everything was clean, near spotless, two bowls were set out upon the kitchen table, a small candle that sits in the middle which would soon be lit for the lighter remains next to it. May herself was in the bathroom, fixing her hair as best as she could, pulling it up.. then down.. up .. then down.. allowing it to hang before she decides to pick up a string of pearls which were held to her neck.

She looked well! As well as someone with a red nose could get, and as well as someone with a slight nasty cough could have. Dinner was to be indoors tonight; to stave away the rest of the cold that she does have, and quite possibly cuddle up in a nice thick blanket after food was shared to listen to the music that plays upon the brand new record, or some odd television show that she happened to find on tv.

But as she stares at herself in the mirror, she makes a slight noise then picks up her brush, dabbing it into the powdered foundation as she brushes the bristles against her nose to at least hide that she nearly blew her nose raw. The least she could do was look nice in her tan colored dress!


Peter Parker is never exactly one to keep a regular schedule. He mainly tries to get out to Queens when he can, when work and school or swingtime allows… which isn't hugely often. But at least once a week… okay maybe once every two or three weeks. Still, he does try to make what time he can and today just so happens to be one of those days.

It's up the steps he walks, then a few moments later he's in front of the door with a hand rapping knuckles upon the door briefly. But, as soon as the door sounds he already is unlocking the door with his own set of keys that she's left him. So she gets a moment of warning, just a little heads up before the door swings open. His voice calls out, lifting happily, "Hey Aunt May, it's me!"


At least -part- of her makeup was done. The knock at the door has her scrambling to blend in a little bit more quickly, her hands immediately gone to her hair which was tugged up and bunched together with a band that wraps around, creating a rather messy bun that somehow just.. does not work. She's flustered of course, but once she hears the click and the ring of keys, a sudden alarm hits her features as she bounds out of the bathroom with a slight kick of one heel that sends the shoe sailing across the apartment!

"Peter!" She exclaims, her brows shot towards the ceiling as she immediately moves towards the light upon the wall, flicking it on with a quick movement of her hand and an awkward smile. "I.. didn't expect to see you here!" Nevermind the faint traces of cigar, or the faint hint of perfume, or the fact that she's missing a shoe and she's all dressed up to go dancing. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"


Pocketing his keys and hanging up his coat, Peter turns around and looks over the place. He's not exactly the swiftest on the uptake, not really the most perceptive of detectives. But there is a general feel of something being… 'off' to him. It could be the curious smells or remnants of smells. Could be the light level, the tone of his Aunt's voice, or the music being played? But then his attention is snared by the burble of stew upon that gas flame.

"What do I need an excuse to visit my favorite Aunt?" His voice is light, jovial as he strolls into the kitchen, reaching for a spoon. He takes a sniff of the pot and gives it a stir for a time. But his brow furrows again as he looks around. "Hnh." He turns back as he licks the spoon and only then does he see her.

The smile that appears is easily given, open and loving as he starts to step towards her with his arms opening. Yet it's almost as if he walked through a haze, passing from calm comfort, into curious confusion.

His hands on her shoulders he draws his head back and turns it to the side, as if trying to look at her sideways, his eyebrows knitting together like a pair of amorous caterpillars. "Ummm… is everything okay?"


May takes a hesitant step forward, her hand lifting and raising, her mouth soon opening and closing. She was all out of sorts, though, she wasn't expecting a visitor that came in the form of Peter Parker himself. Her hand soon draws up to push at the back of her hair, a little smile drawn upon her face. "None! But.. I was…" She stops her words, watching as he moves straight towards dinner, then gives a shake of her head with a slight turn to look for her shoe.

Her foot darts this way and that, up until she gives up the ghost and shifts her remaining shoe off with the press of her toe against her heel, lowering herself carefully to the ground as she bends and picks it up.

Once risen, she looks towards her sweet nephew, her brows raising high as he grips her shoulders and inspects her. There was a slight furrow of her brow, and a little laugh that draws forth. "Yes, everything is fine. It's good to see you, Peter." She leans forward, drawing her arms around his waist to give him a hug. "I just have a little cold that won't quit, that's all. Are you hungry?"


"Are you wearing perfume?" He asks, not that she doesn't sometimes wear perfume, perhaps just not as much? Or not this particular scent? But that doesn't stop him from giving her a hug back. He looks around and considers a few factors, then looks back to her. "Oh umm, I mean… I could eat…" But then he smiles a touch and asks, "Are the, uh, the bridge girls coming over?"

Certainly somebody else might be able to pick things up a little faster, but denial can be a tough thing to get past at times. He does, however, give her a quizzical look as she seems a little awkward. "Colds are no fun. Want me to pick up anything for you from the drug store?" He smiles and then steps towards the living room area, reaching into his pocket as he moves. "Oh and hey, I sold a few more pho…" He furrows his brow as his gaze drifts down the hall, even as the music continues through its relaxing bridge. He holds up an envelope in his hand, then looks behind him towards her and finishes the word, "Toes?"


"Yesss.." She slowly draws out, leaning away from him as he inspects the apartment again, her mouth opening, then snapping shut again as he asks about the girls. She gives a quick shake of her head, her throat clearing ever so slightly, "Oh.. that would be nice.." She murmurs softly, reaching up to take his shoulder to try to edge him to the door. But, he was off towards the living area, and May grits her teeth uncomfortably as she lifts her shoulders, obviously tense.

But.. photos! That was a good change of subject! Photos!

"Oh Peter, that's wonderful news!" She jumps on this subject quickly, marching right towards him to carefully take the envelope from his hands, which was soon shoved into his pockets as she draws an arm around his shoulder again to try to lead him to the door. "I pick up the paper every day, hoping to see your photos in them. I do sometimes wish you'd let me take first crack at it. Surely the girls would -love- to see them the next time they come over.." She was babbling then, only stopping by the kitchen to release him. "Here, let me get you some stew. I don't mind if you don't want to come back over tonight.. you can drop the cough medicine off tomorrow, I'll be fine for tonight!"


"Umm," Peter lets her relieve him of the envelope as he also allows for him to be led towards the doo. He only faintly holds back as the wheels turn in his noggin and eventually a few things do click. He smiles a bit, then looks suspicious, but then gets a faint grin and his eyes narrow just a touch. "Umm…" He repeats eloquently.

"Aunt May?" He asks, his voice rising a bit at the end, but then he grabs his jacket as he reaches the doorway, but holds himself from exiting with a hand upon the doorknob. "Are you… are you? Like…" For a moment he frowns and then asks almost accusingly, "Are you on like, a date?"

As those words are uttered he sort of turns his head to the side to try and affix her in the gaze of one eye, almost as if it were a spotlight and she were an escaping felon.


"Umm?" The bowl was soon filled with a good portion of her delicious cooking, the lid snapped on and stuffed into a brown paper bag for his taking. In fact, she was messy about it, something rushed and quick, but it wasn't messy enough to break the bag that the container itself was in. "Umm? Peter.."

May turns around, her bare feet padding towards the door as he begins to stammer out the question. For a moment, she looks almost annoyed, but it soon dissolves into surprise as she smacks her lips and quickly shakes her head. "No! No no no.. it's.. not a date." She admits, attempting to grasp for what it really was. "He's just a friend. I.."

She grunts just a little, then moves towards the side table to place the food down. "I met him at the grocery store. He's a gentleman. A bit rough around the edges but.." She smiles a little. "..he actually started to plant a few little sprouts outside the apartment. Fixed the sink in the bathroom so that it doesn't clog too much." She winces just a touch, but then lifts her shoulders. "I thought dinner was.. appropriate. A way to show thanks.." Was she asking for permission?


The myriad of emotions that race across Peter's features is an almost comedic thing. It's like someone were flipping all the switches in his brain at once. Part of him seems to want to smile and laugh at her discomfort, another part is taken aback, and yet another part is unhappy and that might be the part that could cause her breath to catch should she espy it through the roil of thoughts.

Perhaps to hide it he turns to the side a bit as he starts to pull his jacket on. At least he's leaving and believes she should have her space, but he sort of looks at her, a little troubled as he says. "I umm… I mean…" His arms slip through the sleeves and he holds them up as if to hold her off, "I mean I'm happy that sounds great. Just…" It's a lot to take in, at least for him. "I mean…" Then there's a mischievous smile, perhaps a touch of a hint of accepting as he says quietly. "I figured you'd just get a lot of cats."

At that he starts to pull open the door, if only to try and evade the oncoming slaughter.


There was a slight little breath that did catch as she watches him, her eyes widen just a touch as if she were to burst into tears in that moment. It wasn't the unhappiness that she had captured, just the roll of confusion and the lack of sound that fills the space during the myriad of emotions. "Peter.." Her hands clasp together, forming into fists against the other, pressed against her lips as she takes a step forward.

Even as he turns to pull his jacket on, could she sense the upset? Even if it was just.. tiny.. could she? Another step was taken forward as she reaches out, immediately drawing her hand back as he turns once again just to hold her off. Still, teeth catch the side of her fists as she waits for the rest of his words..

..only to be met with that?!

Her cheeks flush as she reaches over to snatch the bag of stew, one hand fanning as if she were smacking him along the back as she shrieks with a slight laughter that only he could provide.. and a few slight coughs, which were given as she turns away from him and the food all together. "God, Peter!" She finally manages out, but reaches out to grasp his arm to tug him back into the door. "I love you forever, you hear me, kiddo?"


"I love you too, Aunt May." His smile is there, but there's still some trepidation. But he's not going to get in the way of anything, since really… it's not his place. For now. But he gives her another hug as he tries to sling his backpack over one shoulder. "But really if you need that cold medicine I'll bring it back in like ten minutes. But I don't want to make things… you know, weird."

He can't help but smile at the flush to her cheeks and the way she behaves, but he does sigh a bit and for a bare instant he seems almost on the edge of tears as his brow knits, but then he shakes his head. No he's not unhappy with her, just perhaps for a moment a thought of the past intruded and a memory.

"And really… it's okay Aunt May. Just…" He bites his lower lip, holding it between his teeth for a time as if suddenly afraid for her. "Just be careful. If someone makes you sad… well… I'd have to speak very sternly with them."


The second hug was taken, and held on for longer then a moment. But she finally lets go, then gives a faint little nod. "Please?" She lightly pats the money in his own pockets, then smiles. "Use that for me. I'm all tapped out." Which, in a sense, was true! A quick glance at the clock gives her a little bit of an arched brow, and towards him, that smile warms considerably. "There's time. Plenty of it. It… he.. won't be here for another forty five minutes.."

She takes the slight step away, her hands folding at her front, her toes pressed into the ground as she lifts ever so slightly. His reaction, his words, it all nearly breaks her heart into a million pieces, just for the simple fact that he worries. "I.. I'll be careful. Promise. Just friends. Friends don't make each other sad, right?" She assures him. "Oh.. and if you don't mind, pick up a carton of milk while you're there?" She grins ever so slightly, the winks. "It's for the cat."


"You're killin' me, Aunt May!" Peter says as he walks out the door, calling over his shoulder with mock ire. But then she'll see his smile as he turns to wave towards her, even as he starts to jog off towards the corner store for the milk and the Nyquil.


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